Hilltown Chronicles
by Kaneon
Summary: An orphaned Kurt moves to a sleepy backward Hilltown, to live with his Uncle Burt and his family. He decides it's his new life, where he'll keep his secrets hidden and create a new outlook for himself. Then there's the mysterious Blaine, leader of mysterious Warblers. Kurt realizes that he isn't the only one with secrets. Hilltown itself is full of them.
1. Chapter 1: The Hummels

**~ CHAPTER 1 ~**

**The Hummels**

"Wake up, boy! We're here."

This gruff voice had me jerk awake suddenly. I sit up stiffly in my seat, my neck, when I straighten it, cricks slightly due to staying in the same position for so long. I look around with fuzzy eyes and blink. The bus is almost empty, except for the conductor and driver, there are only two men snoring in the backseats. I would've liked to look outside the window to take in the surroundings, but the conductor is still standing there, waiting. So I shuffle to my feet and reach for the satchel beside me.

Wordlessly, the man lead me outside and I follow, still unsteady due to sleep. The first thing that hit me is the muggy air, and then the hotness of it. I look up and stare at the sky, covered with carroty clouds and casting a sepia hue to all the landscape around us.

The other thing that I notice – we are in the middle of nowhere. Just me, the deranged looking land, and the bus, on a roadside.

"This is it?" I ask the conductor, feeling hopeless.

He looks slightly disturbed. And I swear there is a hint of pity and worry in his eyes as he says, "It's the place, yes. That lawman said to leave you here and here we are." Before I can protest that 'here' was actually a barren, deserted land, he says, "It's a strange place for a town if you ask me. But this is the only way in."

"What way?" I try not to sound too snarky.

In answer, he opens the boot compartment from the flanks of the bus, unloads my two heavy bags, and leads me around the bus to the other side of the road.

I stop short at the sight before me.

A narrow one-vehicle-at-a-time dirt road stretches off from the road. Even one vehicle couldn't make it through, not without having to crash in the trees rimming it like a fence. It is really a trail leading into a forest, but there is a small wooden pole-sign beside the road, pointing inside the forest trail, that says "HILLTOWN: 2 MILES" to make it clear that the trail goes to civilization. Of all the places in this wide world, my linage has to be from the creepy-town. I bite my lips, trying to decide if to board the bus again and go somewhere else, or to burst into tears of frustration. Both options seem likely at the moment. I don't see why I cannot do both?

Noticing my frustration, or bright eyes maybe, the man says awkwardly, "Do you want us to carry your load to this town of yours?"

I shake my head briefly. "My Uncle called my lawyer the time and place. He will be coming to pick me up shortly." I add softly to myself, "I hope."

By now, the driver sticks his head of the window and says, "Isn't there any filling station or inn nearby? You can stay there, kid, till somebody comes to pick you."

I bother not to answer. As far as eye can see, the road is nothing but hot tar and trees and no civilization. After some determination on my part, and unwillingness of the driver, the bus roars to life and crawls its way back down. I watch it for some time, until I can no longer hear it or see it.

That's when I realize how silent this place is. The abundant forest, and the dirt-road, is silent as an empty hall. No birdsong, no light breeze blowing out towards me from the wet forest ground. It is eerie.

Deciding to resign myself to the wait, I drag my bags one by one near the pole. I use the largest one of them as my seat and open my satchel to find my handkerchief. I wipe the small beads of sweat from my face and dab it furiously against my eyes to stop the tears that are threatening to from there.

"Where are you Uncle?" I whisper to myself.

The word "Uncle" rolls off unfamiliarly from my tongue. Until a month ago, I didn't even know I had an Uncle.

Dad never mentioned, Burt Hummel, his younger brother, to me. Ever. I don't exactly know why that is, but I had suspicions that Mother had something to do with it. From what I know, Mother hated Dad's relatives and Dad's relatives hated Mother. That's the reason why they had moved away from Hilltown just after a few months of their marriage—or so I later found out.

We have spent my whole life moving from places to places. At first I thought it is because my parents had adventurous spirit. But then my Mother went missing, and Dad still kept the "moving" tradition up. Now I wonder if it is for some other reason entirely. Although, for the life of me, I know not what that reason can be!

I was the only child. And after Mother was gone, Dad and I became lone rangers. Moving places. Adventuring as we went down the road. I wonder why we never came down this road, the one that led to my Dad's relatives, his hometown. We could've visited anytime; I knew nobody to contradict it, or stop us.

But then Dad died a month ago. Heart failure—instant death. That's what the postmortem report confirmed.

Tears sting my eyes and I blink them away. I wasn't ready yet to loose myself to my emotions. I have to meet my relatives first, bravely so. I can feel wretched later.

But it had happened so suddenly. Before I even had a chance to scream or cry or mourn, Dad's lawyer had come to get me. He had shifted me to an inn, where I'd stayed while he worked out where I was supposed to go. Then he had given me my father's last will and testament.

There had been instructions for me to "Do not go looking for your mother" and "Go to Hilltown, to Burt." There was also a thick envelope that the lawyer entrusted to me, which I am supposed to give to Uncle Burt. The lawyer had telephoned Burt, settled matters with him, and helped me up the bus last night.

And now here I am, waiting.

I could've called my Uncle if I had a cell phone. But mine got confiscated for the investigation that followed Dad's death. I haven't got around buying one yet.

I don't know how long I sit there. All I know is that my clothes are starting to reek and my handkerchief is damp from all the sweat I have wiped from my face. I can feel my hair sticking to my forehead and the nape of my neck. I can only imagine what condition I am in after the time I spent sleeping in the bus.

Before I can lament more on my poor hair and poor clothes, I spot a movement on the dirt road.

A vehicle is moving towards me, blowing a cloud of dust in its wake. I sit straight. My heart hammers. What if it isn't my Uncle? What if it is some other passer by? I'd ask for a lift, of course! But then I think, I'd rather just stay here alone than ask for a lift from a complete stranger in this wilderness.

The vehicle is closer now, I can see it.

It is a jeep, and from far it had looked slow and clattery, but it is moving fast—I can hear the engine groaning with power and speed.

I smile without warning.

Dad had always claimed that he used to own a jeep when he was young. I didn't believe him. But the proof is making its way to me as fast as it can.

It is a rusty-brown color; there is a dimple-like dent just below the left headlight. The windscreen has flowery pattern of cracks on the left, bottom corner. All the details, just like Dad clamed his monster jeep had.

As the jeep growls to a stop in front me, spinning slightly to the right to avoid crashing into me headlong, I notice the second dent on the driver's side door. This is definitely my Uncle.

The man who jumps off the jeep has beaming, tanned face. The shape of his mouth and his pale blue eyes, are just like me, just like Dad. He wears such casual clothes that I find myself feeling conscious of the fact that my garb is flamboyantly out of the way. He touches the hem of his baseball cap, a nervous quirk, I think. The way he looks at me, I can guess he is noticing the resembling family features too. When he speaks, I nearly cry out. His voice is like Dad also, warm, gruff and friendly.

"Well you do look a lot like Paul," he says.

I am so overwhelmed by him and his sudden friendly approach that I finally give way to my emotions. I throw my arms around my Uncle and cry into his shoulder, finally mourning my father's death with my family member, as is proper. Burt holds me close and rubs a hand down my back. He doesn't say anything; he just waits for me to cry as much as I am able. When I finally let go, he smiles at me softly. I notice his eyes are a little damp too.

"Feeling better, Kurt?" he asks.

The way he says my name, as if he had said it all his life, makes me comfortable more than anything. In just a few minutes this man had gone from a complete stranger to a family member. Maybe my life isn't as cruel as I thought.

"Yes," I say shakily. "A lot better, thanks, Uncle."

"Call me Burt, kid."

He picks up my bags without question, places them in the back seat. I hop into the passenger side seat. He climbs in next to me and starts up the engine with a roar.

"How was your journey?" he says as he makes a wide U-turn on the tar road, and plunges into the dirt road of Hilltown once again.

"It was long, but fine." I answer. I keep looking at his face, memorizing his features that are so familiar to my Dad's. "I hope it rains, though."

I don't know what makes me say that, but Burt lets out a raucous laugh at this. His eyes visibly twinkle and I find myself more in love with my Uncle.

"Keep hoping. Maybe your hopes will compel the gods to have mercy on us."

He snatches up a bottle of water for me from somewhere near his seat. I take it with a smile, happy that he realized I must be thirsty. I gulp down the water, keeping my eyes on Burt. I hadn't realize he was religious-type.

"What do you mean?" I ask, pausing a moment before chugging down the water again.

"Well, no rains for almost a year," he says, a little loud so that I can hear him over the noisy engine. "The crops are suffering…and so are we."

I just nod and finish the whole bottle in a few long pulls.

"Now, your Aunt Carole is really excited for you to come over. Ever since Paul's lawyer called about you coming, she had been going crazy all around the house. So if we overdo the welcome on my wife's part, please, don't feel embarrassed." He grins. "We always wanted to meet you, you know. But your Dad had his own reasons to stay away."

He makes a swerving turn to avoid a tree that stand in the middle of the dirt-road. I jump in my seat, noticing how cunningly the people have curved the dirt-road around the tree instead of cutting it out of the way.

I turn my attention to the road now, having memorized Burt's face enough. The trees are still motionless, there is no forest-sounds coming out of them. But I can now smell the earthy scents of forest and wet, muddy forest floor. For fifteen whole minutes, according to my rough estimate, we drive through the forest-trail. It sometimes goes straight without pause, but there are curves and roundabout passes too. I try remembering them all but no use.

Burt suddenly asks me, "Kurt, do have a mobile phone?"

I frown. "No. I couldn't keep my older one after it got confiscated."

He nods. "I'll buy you one soon, all right?"

I don't know what to say to that so I just smile and say, "Thank you, Burt."

Then suddenly, we break thought the trees and travel on the firmer, tar road. There are numerous numbers of lush, green and gold, fields around this road, and I feel my face lift in a smile. I've always liked traveling through fields and country pastures. This is amazing.

Up ahead the road, far away, I can see a hazy, rounded mound on the rusty, cloudy horizon.

Burt follows my gaze. "Yes. That's Hilltown there. And these fields are our major source of income. We got the best barely, corn and wheat of the area."

I can now spot a few people working in the fields. I only see two tractors. The town is old and poor, I can imagine. But it just makes it all the more adventurous to me. I've never been anywhere like this—not even when Dad and I used to go to country side.

"So you trade in crops?" I inquire.

"No, not really," says Burt. "We barely fill our own needs, as you can see how poor the conditions are. There isn't much trade here. There are some farmers who take their haul down to a few nearby cities, and get proper due. But mostly, we keep it here."

Yes. Poor conditions. Now I know what he meant earlier about suffering. Lack of rain and dry earth got to be a hurdle in making satisfactory trade. Also, I can't imagine many people visiting this place. It is a bleak and desolate area—as the conductor said, a strange place for a town.

"Well, uh," says Burt awkwardly, "I know you are used to good education and home leisure, but, we don't have such comforts here. Now don't you worry," he adds hastily, as if thinking I'd find it disappointing. "You'll have your own room and I have enrolled you at the high school, too. My step-son, Finn, that's your cousin, goes to the same school. It's not high standard but it's the only one we've got."

"Thank you," I simply say, letting my gratitude seep into the words. He already has done more than I could've hoped from the relatives I'd never met before. Then I grin. "So…I have a cousin, huh?"

That makes him laugh out loud. "Ooh, yes. He's about your age and he's, well; he's not the brightest bulb you'll meet. Nonetheless, you'll like him, I just know it!"

I laugh when he did. The idea of having a cousin is really nice. I am naturally unsuccessful at making friends and having a ready-made colleague would be a good thing for me.

The hazy mound now rises before us. I can see the town now. There is security barrier with three very alert guards. Odd, considering how unpopulated the road is. The guards wave and nod to my uncle as we pass by.

"Stan, McKay, Bosky." My uncle inclines his head to the three of them in turn, smiling.

We now enter the town's market area. There are all kinds of shops required for the living in any area—electronic, barber, garments, hardware etc. There is also a grubby bar with few elderly farmers visible through glass windows. We also pass a few inns, not too popular as they aren't crowded.

Then we reach the town square. This place is by far the most crowded I'd seen in here. There are new establishments of garments, jewelers, and a bank. There is a corner inn, named the Hill Tavern, which is as crowded as any McDonalds's outlet would be in normal circumstances—people coming out with packed food and huge smiles. There is a HillyRadio11.22 headquarter, a booster tower jutting out of the four storey building. There is also a Hill TV station. I smile in bewilderment at my uncle, who simply shrugs modestly.

Then we are at the center of the town, and I understand.

The mound is actually a hill; small, green and lonely. Huh, Hilltown. Figures. There are walking tracts that lead up the hill's slopes. I stick my head out of the jeep to see the hilltop. There is a single, ranch-like building on top of the hill, dented and obscured by huge trees around it.

"That's the Dalton House," says Burt. "It used to be a hotel before but now a bunch of people live there. But we also get most of our food supplies from up there. The items mostly we can't get easily." We are now making a curving turn at the road at the base of the hill, trying to get past it. "Riley Puckerman, the owner of the Hill Tavern you saw in the square, also depends on the store for their daily ingredients."

My eyes are still fixed on the ranch. I find it fascinating, and wish that I'd get to visit this Dalton House sometime.

We are traveling on the straight road again; only now, the hill is on our back. I look around and find myself in your standard suburbs. Oh, the distance between the houses varies from too close to a little far, but it is the usual, wooden country dwellings. Burt sometimes greets the people walking by on the pavements or laughs at the kids who play in their front yards. It is a nice, small-town folks like community and I like it.

He then turn into the drive way of a two storey house painted off-white and blue. The yard is neatly overflowing with flowers and unkempt but healthy green grass, the kind you want to roll in.

He turns the engine off and the silence ring in my ears for a few minutes, before the bird-song and playing-kid noises fill my head. Burt walks me to the door. There is a dragon-shaped knocker on it, but Burt presses the bell button. The smell of pies wafts out of the house and I grin at my uncle. He flashes me a Dad-like grin too.

The door flies open and there stands a tall boy, flashing us a huge smile. I assume he is my cousin, Finn.

"Hello, Dad," he greets Burt cheerily and then me. "Hello, you must be Kurt. It's so nice to meet you. Come in!"

He sticks out his hand and I shake it lightly.

I've known ever since I was thirteen that I was gay. Nobody knew about it except for my Dad. But now that he is dead and gone, and now that I am here, it's my new beginning. Maybe, I will find somebody, a girl if at all possible, to fall in love. But even as I analyze this, I feel an uncomfortable swoop in my stomach. Cousin Finn is very handsome. And I internally have to berate myself from making any mistake with him.

So I put on my best fake-smile and step inside the Hummel house. Finn helps Burt with my bags.

It is amazing. A staircase leads up to the second floor just beside the front door. At the left there is a small but homely den. Fire place, chairs, a sofa set in lime and red color, the pictures above the fireplace, lamps and a bookshelf. It is the most beautiful home I'd been in—or maybe it is beautiful to me as I'd lived my life as a gypsy most of the time. There is a lived-in feel to the place that I admire right away.

"Let's get them pies while they're hot," says Burt as he enters behind me and then rushes me into the kitchen door.

The pie-smell is overwhelming in here and my mouth waters. And beside the oven is the woman who is definitely my Aunt Carole.

She has brown hair and kind eyes, with a friendly face. She wears an apron and is taking out two huge pies just as we enter.

"Oh," she says, her face melting like hot chocolate into a smile. "There you are, dear! It's so nice to meet you, honey." And she comes to give me a hug. "How was your journey? Are you tired? I bet you are!"

"I—I'm fine. Aunty Carole. I am fine." My mouth is dry again but not from thirst. This is the most warming welcome I'd ever had. I feel right at home and it makes me want to cry.

"Just Carole, dear. And you," she rounds on her husband, pushing Burt playfully. "I could've used a little warning! Look at me, all sweaty and in my apron! You should've given me time to—"

"Mom," says Finn, exhausted but with love, "You look amazing."

"Humph," she replies but looks pleased. "Well, the lunch is ready to go down our bellies. But you need to freshen up first. Finn, show your cousin to his room, dear."

"Sure. Come on, Kurt," he says and leads me out of the kitchen.

He picks up my bags without complain before we walk upstairs. As we go up, he flashes me another big smile over his shoulder. I look down to hide the blush that spreads all over my face. It would not do to expose my secret to my new family yet—a secret, I am sure, is a forbidden one in this simple household.

"This," he says, pointing at the door at top of the landing, "is Mom and Dad's room. The next two doors in the hallway are our rooms. This is mine," he stops at the door on the left. "And this is yours."

I open the door at the right side. It is a small but brightly lit room. The walls are painted lime-yellow. A bed, closet, dressing table, and a bathroom. It had all one can need. There is also a study table. I walk to the window and look outside. I can see the front yard, the jeep still in the driveway. I bite my lips.

"Well?"

I look around and see Finn still standing in the doorway, waiting for my reactions. He has placed my bags inside already.

I want to break down again. This is so much kinder of them than I ever imagined-and I confess, I'd imagined my relatives to be extremely bad people, completely out of protest to my Dad's death. So I just say to Finn, "This is…nice."

I had barely said that that a voice floats up.

"Finn. Kurt. Lunch!"

Finn bites back his laughter. "Yeah—we call it the Siren. Whenever it sounds, we have to respond. Otherwise my old woman gets fussy, more than she usually is."

"I'll be right there," I say and he leaves me after another smile. I am starting to like this signature smile of his.

I hurry inside the bathroom—which is small but neat—and wash my face. I skip my plans of changing clothes and only shed my jumper; it isn't needed. The humid air hasn't gotten any better. Beneath, I wear a cotton shirt with red strips around the neck. I look at myself in the mirror.

My face is the same as ever. Chestnut-brown hair. Green-blue-grey eyes. Pale face. But I can see that I am hopeful for my new life here with my new family. I smile at myself and then go downstairs.

The dining table is in the kitchen too. Uncle and Finn are already sitting there, slicing up the steak. Aunty Carole is flustering over me before long. She gives me so much to eat that I just stare at my plate in dread. Am I supposed to finish this all?

"Carole, the boy ain't the farmer," says Uncle Burt, saving me. "Let him choose his own bit, please."

I am about to empty my plate in the dish when Finn points in his own. So I empty half my lunch in his plate. Then we start eating.

Aunty Carole keeps up a constant stream of chatter. Sometimes asking me random questions which I answer either in Yes or No. But mostly she talks to the air, about various friends of hers from the town and about the problems various friends' husbands have with their harvest.

When I look at Uncle in query, he shrugs and mouths "She's doing it all the time. Get used to it."

Then Finn suddenly says, "So I never had a cousin-brother before. This is going to be interesting."

I grin. His sincere smile, his open acknowledgement of me as a brother—it's all I need for my resolve to harden. No, I will not mess this up with him. I shall love him, yes, but as my brother only. "I'd never had a brother also. It's going to be fun."

"I can't wait for you to get to school with me," he says with a smile. "You'd love it."

"I'm looking forward to it," I say truthfully.

The rest of the lunch goes by smoothly. Unless you count Aunty Carole talking to Uncle Burt about various household things. However thankfully, she doesn't ask me anything more. But then she follows me to my room and start asking if I needed anything? I assure her I needed nothing. Then she leaves me with many best wishes and smiles.

I unpack my bags; place my clothes in the closet neatly. I just had time to select my best collection before leaving for here, my wardrobe is severely lacking. I wonder if Carole may help me in shopping, and if this backward town has good fashion sense at all.

Then I empty my rucksack on the bed. It is mostly filled with my favorite books and selective music. I arrange them on my study table. I also fish out three or four folders—not mine, strictly speaking—but my father's. The lawyer had no idea what to with these so he gave them to me for safe keeping. I place them in my study table drawer.

Then I take out two framed pictures out of the bag, and place them on the study too. One is of me and Dad when I was five years old, I sat on his lap. The other one is a year old. We were in a hiking camp, our arms around each other, and smiles on our faces. I then take out an envelope. From what I can feel through my fingers, it is a wad of letters and important documents. But there is a note stuck under the address, the only thing I have read. It is my Dad's bequeath to Uncle Burt.

I go downstairs with the envelope. Burt is sitting in front of the HTV evening news. He greets me with a smile and keeps his attention on the screen.

"Er, Burt, I have to show you something."

"Oh." He turns the TV off and looks at me attentively.

I glance at the note as I pass him the envelope. I had read it so many times that I knew the words by heart. Although, it makes no sense to me.

"Dad had this note for you. It was in his last will that I give it to you."

He takes the note, his face somber and read:

_Burt—_

_Protect him from everyone. _

_There's no one else I trust anymore than you. _

_I love you._

—_Paul._

But as Uncle reads the note, his pale blue eyes turn sad and excited at the same time. He looks up at me with shining eyes and I see conflict going on in his head. It's almost as if he wants to tell me something, or ask me something, but dares not to.

I become self-conscious under his conflicted stare and change subject. "Aren't you going to open the envelope?"

"I will," he says, and sniffs a little. "Not now, though. I'm not sure if you…" he sighs, "just not yet."

I only nod in response. It is clear that he has some big thoughts in this matter—whatever that may be—and he wants time. So I don't press him for anything.

"His last message for me," he mumbles with a soft smile at me. "I'll have to make sure I follow his instructions." He takes my hand and squeezes. "Kurt, you have to adjust first. Okay? We'll keep you safe but you have to adjust."

I have no idea what he means but I nod like an idiot anyway. He seems satisfied.

"Meanwhile," he adds with a twinkle-eyed smile. "Be happy Kurt. Just be happy."

I smile back. That's exactly what I plan to do now with my life. Be happy with my new family. As a new me—all secrets have to remain secrets. I have to build a new guise for Kurt Hummel, a guise everyone will accept.

My first night at my Uncle's. How to describe it, really? Surreal, too good to be true, strange—I have other thoughts too. But mostly, I am oddly happy. I am, at last, sleeping in a room that can be permanently mine. No more moving around for gypsy adventures—even if those adventures make me achingly miss my father.

Prior to retiring to bed, Carole has given me a bundle of extra blankets saying "It gets cold sometimes in the night."

At first I thought she was just joking—I mean, I was sweating during the dinner, that's how humid it is here, but maybe that was just my nerves—but when I wake up, I am trembling, my teeth chattering. My wall clock declares that it is 2:34 A.M. The extra blankets are on the study table chair. I get out of the bed to get them, when I catch sight of something strange in the front yard through the window by which the study table is. I push aside the curtains for a good look. And I stare.

I explicitly remember that Burt has just one jeep. But now, there are two more cars parked behind the jeep. A black Ford and a rusty VW truck in peeling white color.

Now that I am fully awake, I distinctly hear murmured voices downstairs. Before I can decide to eavesdrop—knowing fully well how rude it would be—the voices move to the den and towards the front door, right by the foot of stairs. I rearrange the curtains so that only my eyes are peeking out. The lights are off in my room so there's no chance of my silhouette giving me away either.

The front door opens and nine people come out of the house. From my perspective, I can only see them from up above and not their faces. But I can easily point out Burt and Finn, one of them being so tall and Burt still has his baseball cap on (does he ever takes it off). The others are all unknown to me.

One of them is older than everybody else; with graying hair and coarse beard. There's a tall, broad shouldered young man with him—he has a mohawk. He leans close to Finn as if engaged in conversation, and then slaps my cousin's shoulder in goodbye. The older man and mohawk-boy turn to leave in the battered VW.

There's a slim woman (rather I think it is a woman) she has short cropped blonde hair and she wears a flannel shirt and trousers and walks with a distinct proud stance (almost like a man). She says goodbye to Burt as well, her manner arrogant even from the window I can tell, and walks away toward the Ford.

Both the vehicles rumble out of the front yard and into the night. I have to close the curtains completely to avoid getting hit by the headlights and getting caught.

Now there's a huddled group of four people around Burt. The eldest one of them, a strong looking dark-haired man engages Burt in silent conversation. The other three, youngsters of around my age, stand right by the edge of the driveway, waiting for the elder one.

Two of them, one fake-blond and one brunette, stand close together. The way they lean close and whisper to each other is intimate—or it seems to me because I can never talk that intimately with anyone, especially a boy.

The other one is rather short; he stands a little away from the close-friends. He wears a polo shirt of dark color, with half-sleeves. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself, and I think he shiver slightly every now and then, casting glances in the direction of Burt and the man as they talk. His head is a shock of dark hair, and from what I can tell in the cloudy night, very curly. He shifts nervously on his feet, as if he is impatient to get out of the cold.

But there are no more cars. I suddenly feel bad for him, for them all, because it seems like they will have to walk home in this cold night.

Soon, the man is shaking Burt's hand and walking toward the short-curly-haired boy. The boy speaks to the man softly and the man just shrugs, casting a parting glance in Burt's direction.

Then the group walks away in the night.

Finn and Burt stand watching them for a while and then they both turn toward the front door, talking softly. I thought it better to jump back in my bed, and wait. I am so alert I can hear the night voices all around me, the chirping of insects outside, the creaking of floor boards as if people are walking around the house. After five minutes, I hear two doors silently closing shut out in the hallway.

I can't sleep after that. Why would my Uncle have visitors at this hour of the night? After a while, I curse myself. So what? Not like they are being mysterious about it. They can be my Uncle's pals for all I know, just having a get-together in the night. They'll probably tell me about it in the morning.

I lull myself to sleep finally, Carole's extra blankets helping me warm up nicely.

They don't tell me anything the next morning. The only signs I can spot of the late-night visit is an ashtray full of ash in the den, and a few dishes in the sink that I helped clean with Aunt Carole last night. Burt looks a bit tensed but keeps talking about a field that needs planting. Finn on the other hand looks tired; he has this hopeless look of someone who didn't get a good night's sleep.

"Did we have guests last night?" I say casually, keeping my eyes on my plate.

But I don't miss Finn looking up at me suddenly in my peripheral vision, his goofy eyes blinking confusedly. Uncle Burt put his fork down calmly, observing me a while.

"Yes, we did, actually. How did you know?"

"Oh, I thought I heard voices talking. But, I guess, I was too tired to get up." I hate lying like this. But I am trying to look like a good boy. A new Kurt, remember.

"Yes, my mentor and teacher, Old Riley, and his grandson came to meet me."

Aunt Carole rolls her eyes fondly. "Oh, they do that all the time! Late night smoking and drinking. But honey, can't you keep these nights off chart for a while. At least, let Kurt adjust here first."

Now I feel really bad. Without knowing it, I was getting suspicious of my Uncle. But if Aunt Carole is fine with it, who am I to criticize.

"It's fine. You guys don't have to tone down your fun because of me," I say casually. "I didn't even notice it much, I was so tired!"

"They aren't bad," says Finn suddenly, looking at Burt, a silent request in his eyes. "I mean, its fun talking to Old Riley. He's hilarious."

Burt smiles at his step-son, conflict in his eyes again. He chews his food slowly, and nods. "Yes, I know. Old Riley's been much help to me and I trust him. But Noah? I just don't know."

Finn looks oddly abashed at having spoken up. He hastily eats last of his toast and gets up, carrying his plate to the sink.

"I think we should get going, Kurt," he says.

I eat my breakfast hurriedly too and pick up my bag, the same rucksack, now filled with Finn's old books. According to my Uncle, the McKinley High School is at the walking distance. So we were walking to the school.

"How far is it?" I ask, as we get out of the house and on the pavement. It takes me a while to realize that Finn's long legs carry him faster, so I pick up my pace, internally worrying about humid-cloudy weather and sweating. I hate sweating.

"Twenty minutes if we take it easy." Finn is still edgy about something but he gives me a goofy smile before saying, "Why are you dressed like this?"

I nearly choke in my gasp at his words, looking down at myself. On purpose, I've ignored my usual clothing style and settled for wearing something simple. I am wearing a simple light-blue shirt and jeans (which were slightly tight, but these are the only less-tight pair I own) and a navy blue scarf around my neck, to alleviate the sweating problem. This situation isn't my favorite, but I have to blend in, adjust. It won't do to alienate myself on my first day of High School (I was a senior, technically, but I am starting mid-term due to the time wasted after Dad's death.)

Taking in my struck expressions, Finn hastily says, "Not that it doesn't look good! You look, nice, dude, really. Just that the clothes you wore in the house were more…nicer."

That makes me laugh. "You mean outstandingly so? Well, I don't know how people will think of my usual appearance here so…I chose to dress simple."

"Simple?" Finn questions me with a confused look. "Whatever you say, man."

So in Finn's opinion, THIS isn't simple? I will have to work harder the next time, seeing as these are the only simple clothes I have.

We walk in silence for a while and I am slightly panting because of Finn's leaping steps. Finn looks at me and frowns, slowing down for me. I swear the first time I thought Finn was unobservant. But maybe he is just simple and innocent. His gesture of slowing down for me was more than enough proof of that.

"Finn, you look worried? Is something wrong?"

He bites his lips nervously and shuffles to a stop. We are at some sort of cross-street section now; a few cars pass us by. He frowns at me and then says, "Are you in danger?"

His question catches me off guard and I just gape at him. "Uh…NO! Why do you think?"

"Well, you must be," he insists innocently. "Dad was—he just said to me that to keep an eye on you and make sure you are safe. He looked angry as if he wanted me to remember it. And I think that's one reason why Old Riley came last night—or why I was even allowed to stay up late. I stayed with Puck in the kitchen with Mom while they talked but I could've sworn Sue and Old Riley were talking about you. Although, I don't know why Mr. Anderson came last night but…"

The sudden launch into this speech and unknown names make me dizzy. I just stare at Finn as he rattles off about Sue and Old Riley (what kind of name is that?) and I have to shake my head to clear away the confusing thoughts.

"Finn! Stop! I don't get a thing you are saying. And I'm not in danger, okay. It's just my father's last message to Burt to keep me safe, I'm sure that's all he meant when he told you to keep an eye on me."

Finn just looks at me like a child solving up a huge problem. He shuffles on his feet nervously, as if thinking of a suitable retort to contradict me and explain, yet again, that Burt insisted. He really is the most sweet, innocent and pure person I've ever seen. There is no suspicion or judgment in him, just raw feelings and determination, even if he doesn't know how to talk freely. And I suddenly feel bad.

"Finn, I—I want to tell you something."

"Sure." There is his shy smile again. I am starting to like my cousin very much.

"I saw you guys from my window," I say as casually as I can.

"What?" His remaining vestiges of determination fall away and he looks miserably worried.

"Last night." I dare meet his eyes. He is only…terrified. But not angry at me. "From my window. I saw you all. But before I could guess who it was those guys just sat in their cars and went away."

"What…what else did you see?"

"That's it. I just told you because I felt bad lying before—in the house."

He pursed his lips in thought. "It wasn't a bad idea, you know, lying. Especially in front of my step-dad. But it's cool. You were just curious, I think. And whatever, just stay out of danger anyways, all right."

We start walking again. As I look around the town, I see a few people walking toward their business. A few young people are headed to school as well. Finn nods to a fair few people in greeting and they nod back, a few smile at me in welcome. I smile back slowly, thanking my lucky stars that they don't find my clothes outrageous.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," says Finn as the school building come in view. "You'll meet Puck and Jake today. They are Old Riley's grandkids."

"Cool."

It's funny but wherever you go, the Hill is visible; the Dalton House perched atop it. Like somebody is constantly keeping watch over everything. I feel a shudder run down my spine as I look up at it.

Finn sees me looking. "The real thing is weirder. I'll take you up there some day, OK?"

I shrug. "Whatever. I just haven't seen anything like it."

"I totally understand, dude."

McKinley High School is clean but smaller than any other school I'd seen. It looks as if it had thirty rooms and a playing field; I can just make out the bleachers at the other end of the field. As we enter the school, a dozen pairs of eyes turn my way. All of them curious, judgmental, or indifferent. Not a single one of them was hateful, or even welcoming. So I guess my clothes have earned a point. I drop my gaze and follow my cousin. He takes me to the office, introduces me and gets my classes sorted for me.

There appears to be slight error in forms as Finn says, "I thought my step-dad sorted it out!"

"As you can see," says the office attendant, "This blank is empty. You can fill it or this will have to go to Figgins."

Finn tears at his lips with his teeth and says, "Fine. I'll see Figgins. Come on, Kurt!"

And then we are hurrying along after the office attendant. I don't know who Figgins is but we stop outside the office that has a plaque saying "Principal" outside the door.

"He'll see you now," says the attendant and we enter.

Figgins is the half-bald man with brown skin and serious expression. He acknowledges us both with a nod and gestures toward the empty chairs. "Mr Hudson and Hummel, take a seat."

"Just Hummel, thank you," Finn grumbles. "I have no more relation with my dead father."

Figgins only nods. His eyes are glued to me and I suddenly look away, trying not to blush. But really I can't control the reactions my traitor body has.

"So what's the error in Mr Hummel's forms?"

Finn gives him the file and says, "One blank is left empty—and I don't know if to just fill it."

Figgins frowns at the empty blank and sniffs. "Burt never mentioned it when he talked about enrolling Kurt here. You should call him."

Finn shuffles over to the other side of table where Figgins' phone was and punched in the number, waiting for Burt to pick up on the other line. "Oh, hey, Dad. Yeah, I wanted to ask—Kurt's forms are not finished. There's a blank left empty and they want to know if I should fill it." Finn's eyes get wide and he nods nervously, before remembering that Burt can't see him. "Okay. Okay, I will. Are you sure? You didn't even ask Kurt if…Oh. Fine. Okay. Bye, Dad."

The whole thing, this whole trip to Figgins' office just because my form was unfinished by just one blank, makes no sense to me whatsoever. Clearly there's much I have to learn. I just sit quietly and watch as Finn put down the receiver and comes to sit by me.

"Fine, I will fill in the blank now," he says to Figgins, taking the file from him.

I slide closer and take a look at the school admission form. It's all filled with correct details, as far as I can see.

There's one blank empty though, and I stare at it in confusion. Is it the standard question to ask in a school admission form?

Sworn To: _.

Finn bites his lips some more and gives in after a heavy sigh. He snatches a pen from pencil holder on Figgins' desk and, with trembling hand, fills in the blank.

Sworn To: Hummels.

Figgins nods once and says to me with a small smile, "Welcome to McKinley High, Kurt. Now off to classes both of you, they are about to start."

On our way to classes, Finn looks over at my class schedule again—I know he is distracted and uneasy still, and he is only doing it because he wants to be sure of everything—and nods to himself after every subject he sees. "Whoa, Advanced French!" he gasps, impressed. "Looks like you have all the other classes with me and Puck."

"That's good," I say, but my mouth feels dry. People have started to ignore me now, which is good. Now anyone barely looks up at me. "You can totally keep me safe that way."

Finn, obviously, doesn't get my sarcasm and smiles goofily. "Come on, we have English together."

I have a lot to ask. What does it mean, Sworn To? I'm not sworn in to anything, let alone anyone. Why would such a thing cause us a trip to the principal's office? And why does it even matter if or if not my sir-name is Hummel.

We enter the English class and a loud shout of "Hummel!" greets us. A second later, a big, strong looking guy with a mohawk hug-tackles Finn. Then his eyes fall on me. I try not to blush because he is handsome as well! Seriously, why is everyone handsome around me? And why does my body react this way to men? A question I have asked myself countless times, with no answer.

"This is Kurt," says Finn, oblivious to me reddening face. "Kurt, this is my friend Noah Puckerman."

"But you just call me Puck," says Puck and holds out his hand. I shake it slightly, feeling my stomach do somersaults. "What's up, man, you look you're about to faint."

"I—I am just nervous," I mutter out somehow.

Puck bursts out laughing. "I'm just messing with you, dude. Peace?" He holds out his hand again. This time when I take it, he yanks me into him and bumps our shoulder together.

A squeak leaves my mouth and my eyes pop out of my skull. Puck looks concerned at my reaction, but at that moment a sardonic comment flows toward us.

"Who is this lady-man?" a female voice says.

Puck and Finn visibly tense. I turn around to look at three beautiful looking girls, dressed in red and white outfits of cheerleaders. They must be one of those famous girls, worshipped by everyone in the school. The one who spoke, I assume, is a hot Hispanic girl with wavy dark hair. She stands with her arms crossed on her voluptuous chest.

"It's my cousin, Kurt," Finn mumbles, looking a bit angry for some reason.

"Ahh, new meat," the sexy blonde on the right side of the girl says with a glint in her eyes.

As if she'd said some magic word or a swear word, Puck dives into action. One moment, I am looking at the trio, and next, Puck is standing in front of me, looking ready to fight.

I gasp at the display of hostility from the girls, because they look ready to fight back. The sexy-blonde curls her taloned hands readily, the Hispanic girl uncrosses her arms and pops her knuckles, while the other blonde only looks on with vague expression on her face.

"Back off, Santana," Puck nearly growls. "He's off limits."

For one wild moment I think that Puck means I am not available for a relationship. But that thought dies down when the girl, Santana, hisses out.

"Who says?" he sexy-blonde girl retorts menacingly.

"He's sworn with the Hummels," Finn says, looking tall and awkward but ready to back up Puck if need be.

I almost say that "No, I'm not sworn to anyone!" but something makes me keep my mouth shut.

Then I feel a strong hand take mine from behind, and it takes all in me to not squeal like a girl. I whip around and find myself face to face with a stylish, heavyset black girl. Her expression is warm and friendly and she tugs at my hand till I am seated beside her. On my other side, an Asian boy sits. He gives my shoulder a friendly squeeze before looking back at the confrontation.

"Liar," says the vague-looking blonde girl. "You can't prove it without Wolverine's certification." Nobody pays her mind.

At that moment, the door swings open and the teacher enters the class. He stops short at the three girls and two boys in the face off. "Girls, break it up," he admonishes. If I wasn't so distracted, I would've thought that he almost looks tentative. "We have a class here."

Santana gives him a malicious/sexy smile and swings her way to one of the empty chair. Sexy blonde and vague blonde follow her and sit side by side. Puck and Finn sit close to me and my two neighbors and the teacher starts the class.

I takes me a while to calm down, my body still rushes with adrenaline and terror. Is this normal school behavior? Is this how teenagers here act in order to settle their disputes? Like, go wild west—don't mind if they are boys vs. girls—and just rip each other off however possible?

The girl, who still holds my hand, squeezes it reassuringly. I finally look at her fully and the first thought that crosses my mind is: That's a nice shirt. Even though, it's absolutely bright, it hugs her heavy body nicely. This girl seems to have some fashion sense; I can guess that we'll get along just fine. I smile at her, letting her know I am fine.

"I'm Mercedes Jones," she introduces herself. "That boogie over there is Mike Chang." I look at the Asian boy, who smiles at me fleetingly before returning to the teacher's lesson.

"Kurt," I mumble. "What—what was that?" I don't need to elaborate what I mean.

She frowns slightly and asks instead, "You sure you are a Hummel?"

"Yes, my father was Paul Hummel, Burt's youngest brother. Why dose it matter?"

"Well then you don't need to worry, boy." She winks at me. "I'll explain what the Unholy Trinity wanted later."

By Trinity, I assume, she means the trio who was harassing me. I sneak a look at where they are sitting and nearly gasp out loud. The Santana woman has her eyes on me, as if she's watching my every move like a pro chess player.

"Who are they?" I ask Mercedes.

"Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabrey and Brittney St. Pierce," says Mercedes in a monotone. "People you should avoid at all cost."

I nod readily. I have no intention of interacting with these three girls again. I now turn my attention to the teacher, Mr Robertson, who is explaining about Twelfth Night. I silently hope that my first day doesn't get any worse than it already has.

But as always, my hopes go down the gutter.

The first two periods are a blur. Finn and Mercedes accompany me through the hallways. Puck and Mike say short goodbyes and head to their other classes. History is mismatched collection of seniors and juniors together, the teacher droning on without making any sense.

I met Jake Puckerman, Noah's half-brother here. He looks almost sane compared to Puck and doesn't go into extreme bro-greetings with me. His best friend Rider Lynn stares at my clothes for a while then says, "Dude, that's an awesome scarf!" and then just ignores me for the rest of the period.

Mercedes takes it on herself to introduce me to the other people present. Tina Cohen-chang who is engaged to Mike, Sam Evans who smiles so blindingly at me that my face stays red for the whole period, a boy with Irish accent called Rory Flag-something. They all seem to be welcoming and my hopes just go a bit higher. Maybe this school isn't the worst idea anyways.

But then three people enter the classroom, their eyes roaming the faces till they land on me, identical sneers crop up on their faces, and then they stamp-walk to their seats and sit down. They aren't the Trinity girls. One of them is a hulking boy, looks like a jock what with his lettered jacket. One is a copper haired girl, who looks as if she owns the land she walks on. The other plump looking girl with stylish heavy glasses, there's a constant frown on her face.

Mercedes doesn't waste a moment before saying, "That beast is Dave Karofsky. The fat one is Lauren Zizes with a big mouth on her—Puck seems to like her I don't know why! And the slim one is Sugar Motta, Sheriff Motta's daughter. They are with the Trinity, so you know better than to stare."

I quickly snatch my eyes away from their hate-filled faces. They don't attempt to have a word-fight with any of us, so History class goes by without incident. Except for the fact that I feel many eyes on my back. I feel concerned gazes of my new friends, and I feel sneers of the three people who seem to hate me even if I haven't done anything wrong to them.

I was going to have words with Burt and Mercedes about the way things worked in this school. It is like it's divided into groups according to their family status—if "sworn to Hummels" have anything to go by—and people seem to have pride regarding what group they belong to. There is clearly much that I do not understand. But that will change after I speak with Burt.

In my Adv. French class, I have no friend. But there seem to a boy who takes one look at me and sneers. I am guessing he has something to do with Trinity as well, which is the only explanation of why he hates me without even getting to know me better. And how do these people know who to look at and sneer anyways? Oh, yes, I am the new kid. But my dress has proven itself during the first half of the school, it wasn't attracting any attention.

One the plus side, my teacher loved my French fluency and pronunciation. On the down side, Azimio was partnered with me and I had to endure his hateful looks throughout the class. Good thing his French sucks.

By the time the break arrives, I have to prowl the hallways on my own. I have forgotten the new locker assigned to me and I am waiting for some divine intervention. I was getting looks again, but those are mostly the "look-there's-the-new-kid" looks. Instead, I start looking for familiar faces to ask for help at least.

But that plan doesn't work out very well. A shoulder pounds into my side and I nearly fly toward the rows of lockers, my head banging against the handle. It will bruise, great. I find myself on the floor when my head clears, I just catch sigh of a letterman jacket vanishing into the crowd. The name, Karofsky, adorning the back.

And then a pair of strong arms helps me into standing position. I turn to face the kind looking boy with dreadlocks. "Are you okay, Kurt?" he asks me kindly.

I nod and then blink. "You know me?"

"Everyone knows you," he smiles modestly. And at my stricken expression he adds, "Puck kinda made sure of it."

"Oh," is all I say. "Thank you, for helping me." I try to get going on my way but he stops me with his strong grip.

"Don't worry, Kurt," he insists. "I'm one of the good guys."

"Yeah, I gathered from your non-sneering face." I blush at realizing how sarcastic I was being after his help. "I'm sorry."

He smiles again. "I meant, let me walk you to your locker and then we can catch the others in the café. If I am helping you, I might as well go all the way, right?" On second thought he holds out his hand. "I'm Joe Hart by the way."

I smile thankfully and let him lead me to another hallway and in front of a locker that I recognize as my own. "Thank you," I say again as I put my things away. "So is this normal behavior, the jocks throwing us into lockers?"

Joe looks embarrassed at my question and says, "No, its only new kids. Or more distinctly, only you. They didn't like that you got backed by Puck and Figgins after what happened this morning."

I open my mouth and then close it. I had no idea that Principal Figgins backed me too. "Oh."

"Is it true that Puck punched Fabrey's guts out?" asks Joe, a note of wonder in his voice.

"What? No, of course not. Mr Robertson broke it up before the gut-wrenching began."

He looks disappointed. "Oh, I guess Puck was being exaggerating…as usual."

We are in the café now. The sense of division, the grouping, hits me hard as I look around. Some tables are flowing with people, while the others are populated scarcely. But everyone looks as if they are in the rightful place, they look content. I feel momentarily thrilled at the fact that my table is the crowded one of them all.

Finn stands looking around as we approach. His face breaking into a goofy smile as he spots us. "Thanks for bringing him, Joe," he says. "I was worried that Sam forgot I asked him to."

"I didn't!" says Sam from his seat at the table. He is busy stuffing his face with macaroni cheese. "I asked Joe to do it instead!"

Mercedes pats an empty chair beside her and I drop into it. She is the only one who notices my bruising forehead. "Yo, what happened, boy?" she asks loud enough to gain everyone's attention.

Finn looks confused. "Did somebody fight with you, man?"

"No," I try to say but Joe overrides me.

"It was Karofsky! He pushed him into a locker."

Puck gets up swearing colorfully. "That bastard! I told them you were off limits!"

"Peace, Puck," says a girl sitting near him. And is that a shirt with teddy bears she is wearing? "You'll get us all into trouble."

But Puck is still standing, glaring toward the table where the Unholy Trinity and their friends sit.

"OYE, LOSERS!" Puck shouts across the café. "I TOLD YOU HE'S OFF LIMITS!"

Santana stands up and says, "Yeah, we heard you the first ten times, baldy!"

"Then how do you explain this?" Puck snarls. And then garbs and rotates my face so that I am displayed to the whole café, every one of them staring at us. "Why's his face bruised, Satan?"

I watch as Santana's eyebrow shots up. I look at Karofsky and see that he looks worried that he left evidence of his crime.

"Well it's not our fault that your lady-boy can't walk without stumbling," says Sugar Motta archly.

Puck looks ready to kill, but reins himself in as he says, "If any of you touch him again, I'll take this to the Mayor."

Santana and her crew only look away and start eating their lunch. Puck lets go of my face and sits down, trying to calm his anger.

I feel rattled. I hadn't realized that my situation was worthy of a complaint to Mayor! But in a way, I feel happy too. My friends—if they really are that to me now—seem to be standing up for me. Apart from my father nobody had done that for me before. My previous school life was a hell where I had to speak for myself. It felt a nice change.

When the last period ends, I follow Rory to my locker—just as Finn wanted me to. The Irish kid stays with me long enough till Finn appears with both Puckerman boys. Rory flashes me a smile and says, "Later, Kurt," and leaves.

Finn and the Puckermens pretend not to notice.

"What's this?" I ask Finn, trying not to color up.

"What's what?"

"Why am I being herded like a criminal all over the hallways?"

It's Puck who replies, "So that Karofsky stays away."

"Well, locker slams are no big deal for me," I try to say as nonchalantly as I can. "I got them all the time in my previous school. I don't see why I need escorting, not like he'll kill me."

For some reason this makes them stop short. I swear I see Finn and Jake exchange glances. Puck bites his lips and shrugs, "Of course not, man! They wouldn't do that." His tone isn't convincing enough and for the first time I feel the weight of my lack of knowledge of this place.

"They really could hurt me, can't they?" I ask clearly.

I can see that Finn is struggling to refute me but Jake's wide grimace gives him away. Puck simple nods.

"What's with this place!" I gasp out, no longer able to play cool. "Why are they treating, me like this? They don't even know me!"

"There's more to it than just that, dude," Puck sighs sympathetically. He reaches out and pats my shoulder, then snatches his hand away. He looks at me to ascertain if I would react like I did in the morning. But I was far too worried for that.

"Then explain it to me!" I try to keep my voice blunt but a snivel escapes me nonetheless. I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

"For now you just need to know a few things, all right," Puck says seriously, looking me in the eyes. "Keep away from the Trinity at all cost. Try to escape if you are alone and they seem to be near you. And keep up with all my pips; they are in all your classes."

"I understand," I say confidently. "And you haven't told me why."

"And lastly," Puck goes on as if I hadn't interrupted. "Never ask WHY. Keep you head down and float with the flow, Okay?"

Again, I nod. But so help me, now I really needed to talk to Burt!

Burt isn't home when we get there. Finn had conveniently kept his mouth shut on the walk home, and I stopped asking after my third try. This was something I needed to handle on my own.

Finn dumps his bag somewhere and settles in front of the TV for his football game. Carole has made us some lemonade and after the muggy walk back home and my sweaty state, it was a welcome reprieve.

"When is Burt going to come home?" I ask Carole.

"He'll be at his shop for a few more hours," she says with a smile. "How was your day, honey?"

Finn stiffens on the couch. But I just smile. "Oh, nice. I made new friends! Mercedes and Tina are so nice. And I met Puck and his brother!"

Finn shrinks down at my enthusiastic tone and Carole looks relieved.

"Boys, do you want something to eat?" she asks as she goes into the kitchen.

"No, thank you," I say, following her, as Finn yells, "YES!" I'm not sure if it's a reaction to game or an answer to Carole's question.

But Carole seems to know as she starts up on lasagna of some sort. "All right, dear. Get showered you have to be at the station soon."

"Station?"

She smiles at me. "Yes, Finn works evenings at the Filling Station. Burt owns it. In fact, it's the only one in the entire town."

This makes me curios to voice my thoughts. "This place seems so…reserved and backwards than any town I've ever seen."

From my tone she guesses that I'm not being insulting. "Yes, Hilltown is not an easy place for city-dwellers like you."

"Why is that?" I ask, hoping that she understands how important her answering was to me.

She looks at me as if judging. Her eyes roaming my face. Then she purses her lips. "This is something you have to talk to Burt about. I'm sorry."

"Well, I'll be in my room. I need a shower."

After a shower, I don my "nicer" clothes, sighing audibly when I look into the mirror and coif my hair stylishly. Finally, I look like my self. At that moment, Finn thunders into my room, without knocking.

"Did you tell her?" he demands.

"Of course, not!"

"Then why did she ask me if you got hurt?"

Oh, right. I point to my forehead where the pinkish-purplish bruise is. Finn shakes his head dumbly.

"You can't tell her anything, Kurt. She'll get worried for nothing. Dad specifically warned my not to involve Mom in any of this."

"If she asks me I'll say that I banged my head in wardrobe door," I make up a lie. "But you guys need to tell me what's going on, Finn. Mercedes said that if I'm a Hummel than I don't need to worry and then the kids at school—the Trinity—they go out of their way to torment me. And why do I need escorts around, Finn! I'm a free citizen not a lunatic who needs looking after."

Finn smiles genuinely. "Its not you. I mean it is You, but not—ah man, Burt will talk to you in details. Besides, I was in the kitchen with Puck when they came over last night. Whatever they discussed, they didn't tell me."

I frown. "You mean that last night's meeting was because of me?"

He nods jerkily. "Yeah. That's what I was trying to tell you earlier. They were talking about you and they we kinda worried."

"And how come the Mayor gets involved? Why would Puck talk to the Mayor?"

Finn shrugs simply. "'cause what they tried to do was against the town rules."

"What rules?!"

Finn smiles again and backs out of my room. "That you need to ask from Dad. Don't worry. You'll catch up about the way things work here." And he shuts the door.

I stay downstairs with Carole when Finn finally goes away to his filling station job. Carole and I watch TV and I find it rather disturbing how Hilltown-y the themes of every show seem. I swear even the locations are around town, and in one of the musical-sitcoms, a girl stars who looks a lot like that animal-sweater wearing girl.

"Who's she?" I ask Carole.

"That's Rachel!" Carole says with extra enthusiasm. "Finn talks about this girl all the time. Rachel Berry this, Rachel Berry that! He's quiet smitten. Didn't you meet her today?"

"Puck introduced me around the table and Mercedes told me names of many of the students, but I can't remember them all," I say evasively. No need to tell Carole that the whole day I was more focused on the haters than the friendly circle of people, that I spent the whole day watching my back for just a few Trinity members.

A few more minutes pass and the doorbell ring. I oblige Carole by taking the door, and Burt stands there, looking exhausted and grimy after a long day's work. But he still smiles at me with the twinkle in his eyes, reminding me acutely of Dad.

"How was your day, kid?"

I smile for now. Burt looks far too exhausted for me to unleash my problems at the doorway. "It was good."

He looks satisfied. "Finn off to work already?"

"Yes, he left an hour ago." I take his baseball cap when he takes it off, hanging it on the hook by the door.

I let Burt shower and eat first. Then we sit in front of 9 o' clock news. Carole retires shortly after clock chimes 10. She kisses me on my cheek as a goodnight and then Burt and I are alone.

"Burt? Can I—there's something I need to ask you."

Burt doesn't look at all surprised at my sudden hesitation. In fact, he turns off the TV readily and turns to me attentively.

I start off a little patchy, but before long my emotions run high and I am spilling about everything to him. I tell him all the details of my first eventful day at school, about the hostility directed toward me and about my own uncertainties. I may even have divulged something about my sexuality—when I wanted to explain my reaction to my male friends—but Burt listens to me calmly.

Then I fall silent, and both of us just look at each other.

"You're gay," says Burt for starters.

I gulp. From all he things I have said, this was the last thing I thought he'd catch up on. But I resign myself to whatever fate there may be. "Yes, I am."

"Were you openly gay in California?"

"No, I wasn't. Dad and I moved a lot. I barely stayed in any school longer than a year or two. But yes, my sophomore years were constant in California, and I outed myself."

"First of all, I don't give a damn if you like boys or tigers," Burt says with heat and sincerity. I nearly burst into tears but he continues talking. "Secondly, the reaction of some kids at school has a lot more to do with your past than your dressing or sexuality. And thirdly, things work according to a system in Hilltown. The sooner you become a part of this system, the easier it'll be for you."

"You mean cast system?' I hedge derisively.

Burt looks mortified but admits. "Yes. There's ruling class, the kids who harassed you today. And then there's serving class. We, Hummels, belong to the serving class. Heck, everyone in town belongs to serving class. And if you don't belong to anyone, group or family, you are worst then insects. That's why those girls assumed you were not from any family, and that's why they were pissed when Puck defended you. The ruling class wants excuses to treat people like shit. And as an outsider and new-in-town kid, you were the easiest target."

I sit stunned at what he said. What kind of medieval, backward system this was? It's a free country, for the love of Marc Jacobs!

"Good thing I talked to Figgins after Finn called me about that form. Just trust Figgins or even Sue Sylvester when things go out of hand in school. I talked to them; they agreed to keep an eye on you. As the time pass, you will cease to be the new-kid and they will leave you alone. But for now, stay tuned to what Puck and Finn say, all right son?" Burt smiles softly and caresses my bruise with his thumb. His eyes look almost angry as he stares at my forehead. But as Puck had earlier, Burt reins in his anger and says nothing.

It wasn't all but at least some things were clear to me. So I assure my Uncle I understand and bid him goodnight. For a long time, I lay awake in my bed, thinking. At midnight, the doorbell ring once, and I hear Finn's mumbling voice downstairs in den.

By the time sleep invades me, only two things makes sense. Burt didn't hate me because I'm gay and Hilltown sucks.


	2. Chapter 2: The Warblers

**~ CHAPTER 2 ~**

**The Warblers**

Jack "Andy" Anderson had another crowded day in his store house—mostly the people referred it to as Hillstore, the only best grocery market in town—as he re-reread the list of items yet to be delivered. Lack of packed cakes and donuts was an acceptable set back, people could live without them, and they could bake them or buy it from Unique's Bakery. But the sever lack of coffee, eggs and sugar was a floodgate of worries. For the time being, just a worry for him. But soon the small grocers down in town will use up their last stock. They would come here to him to buy new stock. That's when the floodgate would burst.

He heard slow shuffle of bare feet behind him and turned to find his son, Blaine in the warehouse doorway. He was in his pajama bottoms and tank-top, his curly hair rumpled up in an adorable way. He was rubbing his eyes even as he tried to walk toward his father.

"Why are you still here, Dad?" he asked sleepily.

Andy hadn't realized how late it was. The reassessment of his last, insufficient delivery had left him occupied. "Did I miss dinner?"

Blaine gave him a disapproving look. "You even missed the night cupp'a. It's nearly midnight, Dad."

Andy sighed and set aside the clipboard. "We should get back to bed then."

But Blaine eyes had followed the clipboard and were still glued to where it sat on the table. "More problems with the deliveries?"

Andy usually discussed the business problems with his son. Blaine was just as intelligent and levelheaded as his late mother—a skill that made him an effective leader of the Warblers. But the usual discussion was a result of minor setbacks—a delivery item or two missing from the stock. Andy wasn't sure if he could tell Blaine about this latest mishap. His son will get troubled for no reason. Or for a good reason if Andy knew his son well enough.

"Oh, just a few items didn't get send here. The movers may have made some mistakes."

As always, Blaine caught up on his Dad's lie. "How many items?"

"A few."

"You wouldn't lie to me if it were just a few items, Dad."

Andy resigned with a sigh. "If a rough guess suffice, we have no sugar, no dairy and no coffee—along with some other thirty items. What would happen when they come here to buy at sun up?"

Blaine stood stock still, his eyes wide, all traces of sleep gone. "But that's impossible! That would mean we have just a quarter of our share of items delivered to us!"

"Yes, that's what it is. I didn't notice it before but, this is by far the major setback we've had in last three months."

"And you didn't tell me?" Blaine reprimanded him with an angry glint in his hazel eyes. "Dammit, Dad! We could've done something about it!"

"Like what, Blaine?" Andy countered, sighing in frustration. "Kidnapping the deliverer? Beating out the truth from him? You now we can't do that."

Blaine shrank back a little. "That's not what I meant, Dad, and you know it. I just meant we could've complained or something. You know how much our supplies mean to this town. People depend on it."

"I just hope that people don't blame us when we fail to deliver to them in the morning," Andy said with discouraging look in his eyes. "Come on, we should go back to sleep."

The father and son locked the warehouse securely and headed to the mansion house just beyond a stretch of garden. The Dalton house was dark and silent, except for two people standing guard on the roof.

Andy looked up at Thad and Kevin. "Everything clear up there, boys?"

"Yep, Andy," Thad said softly, his voice carrying down in the silent night. "You look bummed."

"It's the deliveries again," Blaine said evasively. He couldn't let his team worry any more tonight. "Where's Nick and Jeff?"

"Already headed to Hummels as planned," Kevin replied and then went back to examining the Dalton grounds.

"Good," Andy said. "Keep us safe tonight, boys. Good night."

There were more mumbles of Goodnight and then they both entered the silent house.

"Dad?" his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"Why do we have to keep the new Hummel safe?"

"Because it's the only way to earn Burt's allegiance. And also because we need them. Burt control the oil and petrol of this town, his association with us can be valuable."

Blaine nodded, waiting for more information. He already knew about the position of Hummels in Hilltown.

"And also because the new kid has talent. Burt believes that his mother may reappear to claim in again. We can't let that happen, you know why."

Blaine needed no more explanation. "The Smyths will ruin him."

"Exactly," Andy said with a smile. "Do you have any errands tonight or are you hitting the hay?"

"No, I will stay in tonight. Nick and Jeff will keep watch on Hummels."

"Good night, then, son."

"Good night, Dad. Love you."

Andy gave him a tired, sleepy smile and both men returned to their rooms for the night.

I find this undecided mood of Hilltown's weather kind of irritating. Hot, muggy days and chilling nights. What is this place, really? If I was a superstitious sort, I'd blame it on some stupid curse.

This is the fifth night that I wake up shivering like an old man. Carole, good on her, keeps the soft new blanket folded at the foot of my bed now. It is almost a relief when I yank the blanket on and cuddle with my pillow. My body heat building and calming me.

If the autumn is like this, Hilltown's winter must be unbearable.

Sleep takes some time in coming. My thoughts wander of their own accord.

Puck was taking me to the fields in the morning, to introduce me to my weekend job, he said. The word "field" still rattled me. And to think that half my friends work outside, farming in the lands everyday in this bullshit weather, was unnerving.

Burt had agreed easily when Finn explained Puck's—in his opinion—genius plan. In fact, my uncle looked almost thrilled at the idea. I tried to protest and explain what sun did to my poor skin, but no use.

"It's always cloudy here, Kurt," Burt had said. "Besides, you can't stay idle. Everyone here has to work in some way. You'll be drawing a lot more attention if you stood out by doing nothing."

In other words, you have to serve because you belong to serving class. I still wasn't sure about how this worked, but I was planning on making it easier on Burt. He already has done so much for me.

He talked to Sheriff Motta about the way I got treated in school. The Sheriff hadn't looked really thrilled but he made necessary announcement in the school assembly, as was law. The announcement, instead of dragging away the attention, had increased the looks that I was starting to get. But people—and Trinity and team—had left me well alone after that. They still sneered at me, but avoided me for most part.

My dress sense had gone from simple to absolutely bogus. I had to borrow a few of Finn's old clothes. I looked a sight in his oversized, smelly and bland clothes but they were practical and passable.

Puckpeople—as Puck liked to call his and mine friends—were constantly on watch for me. A fact that I found both endearing and irritating. First few days of having Rory and Ryder following me around to classes and locker, and then I broke out on Finn. Now, the Puckpeople stayed out of my way. But I can swear I see Mercedes and Tina hovering around me, Sam and Jake sometimes leaned around the hallways, their eyes glued to me and my immediate surroundings. Joe had made a habit of passing me in the hallways frequently, sometimes stopping by to say hi.

This evasive security bothered me more than when they used to walk with me. At least then it felt like we were friends hanging out. Now it feels as if they really are keeping an eye out on a vigilante.

It isn't until yesterday that I understood the real reason of their watch keeping.

I was just getting out of the French class when Azimio stopped me. "Oh, Kurt…can you help me with my assignment?"

This was the first time he had talked to me as a person, rather than swearing at me or sneering while we partnered up in lessons. I looked at his face and saw only worry and nervousness.

"Uh, sure, yeah. I can go through some points with you, but the rest you'll have to do on your own."

He looked relived at that and smiled. "Thanks! I can meet you in basketball court, then? Shall we say, in the break?"

I found myself agreeing to his plans. He left me with a lot more friendly attitude than before. I was still suspicious as to why he chose the basketball court; it was empty during the break to the best of my knowledge. But then I decided that he wouldn't want to be seen by his Trinity friends while he worked with me.

Later on, I almost told Rachel Berry about my plans. But fortunately, Rachel was talking away in full fledge mode about her new glee solo and a new plot twist in that sitcom.

I made my way to the basketball court, avoiding my silent security guards on the way, and entered the deserted court. I nearly left, but waited for a few minutes, when Azimio came.

But he wasn't alone.

"I told them that you were helping so I brought them too," he explained hurriedly. "Don't worry they won't hurt you." The casual way he mentioned that set me off a little. But the boys made no move to hurt me.

Karofsky, wearing his haughty sneer, put down his book and sat down on the floor. Lauren plopped down beside him and started typing on her iPhone, ignoring me completely. While the other boy just stared at me, his face calculating and calm.

I started the lesson slowly, waiting for the break out. But surprisingly, none of them did anything. In fact, after a couple of minutes, they were immersed in my translation and even asking me random questions when they didn't get the meaning.

Just as the lesson was about to end, I realized I hadn't seen the slim boy before. His face was handsome, but there was look of pride in his brown eyes that ticked me off. With I jolt I realized that he didn't even study here.

"Who are you?" I asked him. "I mean, do you have any question?"

The others stiffened a little and looked at the boy with repressed expressions. They almost treated him like a leader figure.

"Sebastian Smyth," said the boy, a smile fracturing his face.

I tried not stare. He really was handsome and quite charming when he smiled. But his eyes still made me wary. There was something dormant in them, something dangerous.

"I don't believe we've met?" he held out his hand.

After a moment, I shook it. To my surprise, he bent over and kissed my hand, gentleman style. He chuckled at my stunned expression, the same proud wave washing over his features.

"That was a really good lesson, right guys?" His friends nodded. "We should do this again."

"You don't even study here," I protested weakly.

He laughed a little. "But I can come and go as I like. And I really enjoyed listening to your voice as you speak French so beautifully. I will like to do this again."

"No," I refused. Mainly because his open (and flirty, I think) behavior made me edgy. I was trying to pass as a straight person. "I just promised to help in this assignment. You can do the rest on your own."

I got up to leave and Sebastian's hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me. His hold was tight and I winced when it got tighter still.

"Let go."

"Sit down and decide calmly," he said, his demeanor changing rapidly from handsome to terrifying.

"No. Let me go." I reeled in my tears somehow.

At that moment, Sam and Mr Schuester of glee club burst in the door. They looked at Sebastian holding my wrist and my pained expression and leapt into action.

Sam knocked Sebastian's hand away and dragged me out of the way. Mr Schuester grabbed Sebastian from his collar. The others got ready to fight but stayed back at a signal from Sebastian.

"What are you doing on school premises?" asked Mr Schuester. "You aren't allowed here, Smyth, or have you forgotten?"

Sebastian only smiled. He looked disgusting when he did that. "I would let go if I were you, Will. Or have you forgotten what we did to Terry?"

Will went still, his eyes popping in rage and pain. But he let go of Smyth and said, "Out with you, you filthy maggot! Or I will call the cavalry."

"Whatever you say," said Sebastian. He and his friends walked around Will and toward the door. Sebastian leaned closer to me as he passed us. "See you around, beautiful."

Then we were alone.

Sam let go of my hand with a huff and Will turned on me angrily. "You were supposed to be in café!"

I stammered as I explained about the French assignment. Will frowned when I told him that Azimio was my class partner.

"I can't believe Kelly let him be you partner! What was she thinking? Sam, take him back to your friends. I will talk to Figgins about Kelly."

Sam had then led me to café, looking at me with disapproving expression throughout the way. "You shouldn't have done that," he said at last as we entered the noisy café. "We are trying so hard to keep you safe and you go right into our enemies' lap!"

"Enemy?"

"Sebastian Smyth. Son of Edward Smyth. The Mayor."

Meaning head of the ruling class. I internally cursed myself and we sat down around the table.

"Where were you?" asked Mercedes.

"He needed to go to the men's room," said Sam evasively. "I think that Hilltown's water didn't suite him well."

There were soft sniggers around our table, Rachel handed me a tablet saying, "This will make your stomach settle, Kurt." It evoked more laughter.

But out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Sam lean close to Puck and speak softly. Puck's features turned sour but he only nodded once. The rest of the lunch had gone without incident.

A blush of humiliation crawls up my face as I rethink on today's events. It was stupid of me to trust Azimio at all. Yes, the lesson had gone without trouble. Yes, they hadn't hurt me. But that Smyth boy still gave shivers. Both good and bad kind. But I was ashamed at how my body had reacted to him.

I groan into my pillow as I try to sleep. But my mood is bitter and I am sure I'll have a headache in the morning.

I get out of my bed and decide on having a shower and a thorough moisturizing routine (the products were courtesy of Carole.) If I have to spend the whole weekend out in fields, I might as well get extra precautious. I grab my towel and have a quick shower. I wrap my bathrobe around me and settle in front of my mirror.

Just as I start up with initial layering of lotion, a flash of light gleams in my mirror, reflecting off it, and into my eyes that I have to close them. My room is relatively dark, with just a lamp on near me to help me see what I am doing. The rest of the room is plunged in semi darkness, not enough to be seen through thin curtains of my window.

A globe of light appears in my curtains again, reflecting off the mirror once more. I sit still. Either there's a car outside or a security guard on his night petrol—but someone is checking into my room with a flashlight.

I get up slowly and make my way to the window. I check the street but it is empty, Burt's jeep sit silently in the driveway. There's no other car for as far as I can see in the street lights. Then a flash of movement catches my attention and I look straight at the house in front of us.

There's a stretch of two lawns and a street between us, more than hundred feet, I assume. But I can easily see two men standing on the roof of the other house. They stand close together, sometimes walking or talking. But unmistakably, these are two men I know, sort of. One of them is a fake-blonde and the other is dark-haired. They wear casual jeans and shirt that can pass for undershirts easily. They both have heavy, dark jackets on.

They are the same boys I saw from my window the first night. They were from the group that had walked home alone.

What are they doing here? At this time? I check my clock and, yes, it's nearly 4 in the morning. How long have they been here?

And most importantly, why are they outside our house?

The answer presents itself to me slowly, but firmly. With my extra secured life in school, and sometimes in house, it only makes sense that they would keep eye on me in the night as well. But I feel angry suddenly. This is beyond normal and I needed explanation.

If Puck thinks he can treat me like a wild animal than he was about to have a piece of my mind. I will tell him what's what when he comes to get me this morning.

With this resolution, and anger, I finish my moisturizing routine, throw on a new pair of boxers and a dark grey tank top and climb into my bed. I sleep fitfully for the remainder of night.

"How much time left?" Nick asked quietly, scanning the area once more, for the hundredth time that night.

"Oh, two hours till sun up," said Jeff. He was looking a bit tired now.

"Why, Sterling? Already tired are you?" Nick teased. "We had just one night of watching. There's gonna be a lot more later."

Jeff grins evilly, scooting closer to Nick. "Is that an invitation, Duval? Because you know when it comes to fun I don't get tired."

Nick shook his head in defeat. "Only you, Jeff. Its already unbearably cold and you still want to irritate me."

"I can help warm you up, if you like?" Jeff moved in closer, breathing his hot breath near Nick's ear.

Nick shivered visibly and stepped away from him. "Manners, Jeff. It's not right."

"Why not? Just because I'm not gay doesn't…"

"Please, don't." Nick sighed again and turned on his flashlight. He thought he saw something move beneath the tree in Hummels' lawn. It turned out to be a cat only. He dragged the beam of his flashlight up to the second window, just above the front porch and front door.

"The new kid's room, right?" Jeff said casually.

"According to what Andy told us, yes."

They both hum in agreement. Nick turns off the light after checking a second time. Nothing out of ordinary to report.

They drift into uncomfortable silence. Jeff sneaked a few glances in Nick's direction but the boy ignored him, keeping his eyes trained on the street and surroundings.

Nick Duval was the only openly gay person in the entire Hilltown, and it's the reason why he smiled rarely or why he lived at the Dalton house. His parents had kicked him out in the streets, calling him vulgarities and beating him till he had ran away. He hid most of those first few days in a deserted warehouse near the Hill Tavern.

Blaine and Wes had found him there one night after they had a late night meeting with Sue and Riley Puckerman. It had taken him a while to convince them that he was a sworn family member but his parents had kicked him out due to some reason. He hadn't come out to them at that moment. For some reason, Blaine had sympathized with him and offered him to stay at Dalton. After a while, Andy had him sworn under his name so that everyone else will leave him alone.

The moment he had entered the Dalton crowed, he had fallen for Jeff Sterling, the blonde joker and charmer, and fallen hard. But Jeff was straight and prone to making fun of people, without realizing how much he hurt them with his words.

Nick had come out to his Warbler friends after a few heavy drinks of beer and a rowdy night out on their usual hunts. The warblers had initially reacted with shock and silence—especially Blaine who looked as if somebody had knocked him down—but then accepted him without protest. They had even tried to make him comfortable by trying to introduce him to some lesbian girlfriends they had. To talk and adjust. He was grateful to be a part of their family. His life was much easier now.

Jeff had, surprisingly, became one of his close friends. They even shared a room in Dalton. But Jeff had a way of getting flirty at inappropriate times, teasing Nick about his sexuality and trying to make remarks that made Nick uncomfortable. Jeff didn't know what Nick's true feelings for him were.

If only he knew, Nick thought. If only he knew how much I want him to be like me. But to Jeff, it was all fun and games. It hurt Nick more than he could explain.

So they stood guard silently. Nick tried to control his emotions and violent urges to throw himself off the roof or in Jeff's arms. Jeff tried to make amends. He knew he had hurt Nick but he didn't know how to undo his stupidity.

In the end, he just said, "Hey, Nick? You know that I love you anyway. No matter if you don't like me."

Nick sucked in a deep breath and smiled slightly. "Yes, I don't like you. Because you are an asshole. But, thanks."

Jeff, thinking that he won, silently cheered, mock punching Nick and gazing across the street.

If only he knew, Nick thought again and stayed silent.

They abandoned their post as the first rays of sun hit them. They walked/ran toward the Hill in empty early morning streets.

Just as they reached town square, the door of a private bar banged open and a group of really drunk teenagers came out. On instinct, Jeff and Nick hid behind a parked car. Another look confirmed the identity of the teenagers.

Santana, Quinn, Brittney, Azimio, Sebastian and Jesse St. James. They were completely drunk and wobbly, laughing raucously and heading toward their expensive cars.

Jeff looked at Nick meaningfully, fishing in his jeans pocket for something. But Nick shook his head furiously.

"We weren't ordered to do any of that!" he hissed.

"But they are vulnerable," said Jeff resolutely. "We can take them!"

"And tell Blaine what? What do you think Andy will do when he finds out?"

Jeff had to admit that Nick had a point. So he kept himself controlled. They waited till the Trinity girls and the teens drove away in their cars.

"I wish they'll get crashed driving on their drunken asses," Jeff muttered hopefully.

"Knowing our luck, it'll never happen."

"Sour puss."

"Shut up, Jeff."

They made their way around the marked tracts that led up the hill. Blaine had chosen another, slightly secluded part for them to climb uphill so that they could escape notice. From this side, only the industrial part of town was visible. The trees grew wild and the roads were mostly deserted except for the workers and industry busses.

They emerged on top of the hill behind the Dalton house. Jeff fingered open the crisscrossing fenced gate and swung it open. The creaking sound echoed throughout the back yard. A few moments later, a person appeared on the roof, peering down at them.

"You saw them?" asked Thad without preamble.

"Yes, the drunken bullheads," Jeff said offhandedly. "Anyone up?"

"Wes, maybe. It was his turn to make breakfast, right?" Nick made a guess. "Are you guys coming down, yet?"

Thad shrugged. "Get Blaine up. We'll be there."

Inside the Dalton house, the rich wooden texture and elegant furniture was slightly aged and dirty with use. But it was the most beautiful and elegant house in the entire Hilltown. And for its residents, it was nothing short of heaven.

Nick ran up the spiraling staircase, the sunlight pouring in from the huge, round skylight overhead. He ran through hallways, not being silent, and stopped in front of Blaine's room.

"Blaine!" Knock. Knock. Knock. "Get your ass up. Rise and Shine!"

His voice carried through the hallways, for sole purpose that everybody hears it. A few moments later, a very agitated looking Blaine threw open the door.

"You're back," he nearly barked in irritation, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"And Wes better be making something by now," Mick replied. "I'm starving!"

As he made his way down the hallway, a few more doors opened and the rest of the residents of Dalton house started to appear. "Morning everyone," said Nick as he saw them. "Another day has dawned and we are free for the weekend!"

There were sleepy Good Morning all round and the boys started to get dressed, showered and fresh.

Andy opened his door too and peered at the rising boys. "Good morning, Nick. How did it go?"

"Great. But please make sure Jeff and I don't have to go together again."

"He was being shitty again, wasn't he?"

"Yes, exactly."

"I'll keep that in mind."

In the next half an hour, the whole Dalton house was full of life. The Warblers were crowding the kitchen, sitting on the dining table and bar stools. Wes was busy making a huge stack of pancakes and Trent was filling mugs with coffee and handing them around to everyone.

The Warblers chatted amongst themselves or as was tradition, hummed or murmured the lines from "New Morning" around the table. Before long they were busy eating and comparing notes.

"All right, what's our status?" asked Blaine, assuming his leadership as he ate his caramel dipped pancake.

"Clear," said Jeff, stuffing his face. "Hummelsoodow."

"What?"

"He means, Hummels are good for now," translated Nick, rolling his eyes at Jeff fondly. "And we didn't see any of the enemy watchers around his house so that's good news."

"But we did see them last night and then this morning," said Kevin. "They went to Scandals and got drunk the whole night. They got out just as Nick and Jeff came back."

"We had clear sight of them," Jeff asserted, pausing his eating. "We could've taken them."

"No," Andy said sharply. "We can't touch them directly, don't you know that?"

Jeff looked pissed but said nothing else.

"As long as they are within rules," Blaine said placidly, "we can't touch them. But if they tired anything with the new kid, we can take them. But not now."

"Which reminds me," said David wisely. "We are supposed to meet Puck in the fields today. He is initiating the new kid in his farmers, I think. And he had to tell us something too."

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay. You and I will go to meet them before sunset."

Andy let the Warblers decide their course of actions for the rest of the day. He got up and bade them farewell. "There are going to be some pissed customers today, so I better get going. Call me in if something happens."

Andy rumpled Blaine's unruly curls, and planted a kiss on Cooper's cheek, who was his youngest son and the youngest of the Warblers, on his way out.

Blaine spent the rest of the day with usual tasks. Appoint new duties for Warblers. Drop Cooper off to middle school. Get Trent and Greg to visit Millie Rose down in the Tavern to deliver flour. Round up the Warblers again for three hours of lessons in library. Then spend some time in his room to revise the melodies and notes he had thought up of previously. Practice his martial arts in the gym with the others. Pick up Cooper from school. Then sleep a few hours more.

By the time the evening came, David and Blaine walked down the hill side through the marked tracts. They went to the shed at the foot of the hill and got inside their pick-up truck. By any luck, they will have made some progress with Puck and the new Hummel when they returned for their dinner.

Finn gives me an extremely awful shirt this morning. He explained in his broken words that the work in fields gets dirty and he wouldn't want my clothes to suffer.

In the house I still wore my own clothes. I still took care of my hair. Carole almost treated me as she would a daughter, delighted whenever I asked her opinions about color matching etc. My guess was that Burt had fessed up about my sexuality, and from her cheerful behavior, I think she doesn't hate me either.

I have no idea if Finn knows but he has been rather cross-eyed at my double personality for a while. I could almost hear the gears clicking in that head of his whenever he saw me rush upstairs and come down looking like a supermodel. If he thinks or suspects something, he hasn't mentioned it. But he was being careful with me too, and his gesture of the awful-shirt was almost sweet in the strange Finn-way.

We say our goodbyes to Burt and Carole. Finn and I wait in the front porch. Puck shows up in his second-hand convertible, blaring the woofers with some rap-song.

"Get in, ladies," he swags. "We are gonna have one sweaty start of barley plantation today."

Wow. Plantation. I officially step into middle-age as I sit in the backseat.

"I don't know anything about the plantation, Puck," I confess at once. I obviously thought they would gag and tell me to run off. But I thought wrong.

"Nobody does, man," he says, putting the car in the fastest gear and burning rubber as we go off. "But I'll teach you, no probs."

Great. There's no way out.

I sit silently as we make our way out of the town square and toward the check post where the very-alert guards stand. Finn and Puck keep up constant chatter, throwing some field related words here and there, but ignore me.

"I suddenly remember why I was angry at Puck. "Hey, Puck, why are you setting tails on me?"

"I don't get you man?" he says, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

"Why were your 'security guards' outside my house this night?" I make air quotes.

Puck honest to God frowns. "What guards?"

"The ones that stood watch all night—poor souls—because you must have told them! They were out there, on the roof of the house in front of us. And it was cold in night, if you didn't know."

Puck says nothing. He doesn't deny, which tells me he knew about it in some way. When he still doesn't say anything, I shake my head in shock. Well, if that's what he wants, he can do it. And besides, I will complain to Burt about those poor kids and he will surely do something about it.

But Puck remains silent and thoughtful the rest of the way. He even whisper talks with Finn. He says, "I thought they wouldn't do it."

"Good thing they are meeting you today," Finn whisper-talks back.

I just fume in the backseat because, obviously, none of it makes sense to me.

When we stop by the road beside a few other pick-ups and cars, I almost reel in confusion. This is really a farming town.

There are more cars around and the fields are busy with people tolling in the ground and, well, farming. Puck and Finn greet a lot of people by name and walk into the small tracks that connect fields with each other. I follow dumbly, staring at the world around me.

Then I spot a few familiar faces and—bodies.

Sam, Ryder, Jake, and Joe are shirtless and covered in sweat. They all have picks and spades in their hands and they seem busy. They look at us when we come and cheer in happiness.

"About time, we thought we were gonna work here alone today," said Jake.

"As if I'd do that my people," says Puck. There is almost a possessive and tender tone to his voice as he says that. He really does take care of his people.

From the far side of this field, Rory and Mike run toward us. Mike is also shirtless but Rory wears a tank-top that's soaked in sweat.

"Where is you wife, Mike?" asks Jake at once. "We are falling dead here."

"She called that she'd be late," says Mike. Then seeing my confused expression, he explains, "Tina and Marley are on duty to refresh us with food and stuff. They are supposed to be here now, but today there was some work at the Tavern."

"The Garglers were supposed to deliver flour to Rosa, right?" Puck asks, boss like.

"That's what Tina said was taking so long," confirms Mike.

"Good. They are supposed to meet me," says Puck, checking his watch. "This evening. Now let's get you sorted, Kurt."

Jake produces a pitchfork from somewhere and hands it to me. Rory calls me closer and says, "You and I can team up, buddy."

"Now start taking out your fury on that dry patch of land till it's all wet and tender," says Puck, a glint in his eyes. "You may begin, Kurt. You are now one of the Puckpeople."

"That's it?"

"That's it," he confirms.

Now Finn comes forward and says to me, "Good Luck, Kurt. I'll come back when you guys are done. I'm kinda late for the Station anyways." He slaps my shoulder with some affection (ouch) and walks away.

Puck starts giving orders to some of the other young people I haven't met. He takes charge for a short time, examining the work of everyone and then sheds his shirt too, and joins us.

I follow Rory's lead in silence. Rory gives me pointers to use my legs as leverage to upend the earth. I do as he says. At first, I tire easily, my body soaks in sweat rapidly. But then I get the knack of it and my arms start working autopilot. It calms me, amazingly, and I let my thoughts wander.

Before long, I shed my shirt too till I am in my tank-top. I realize that the boys had done it out of heat and necessity, and not because they wanted to make me uncomfortable as I had previously imagined. And I establish a silent bond with earth and the people around me. We sometimes pause and look around, examine the hard work of others. We sometimes catch each other's eyes and smile encouragingly, or ask silently if anyone needs rest or help.

I have only one moment of weakness when the heat got too much for me and my eyes stopped seeing. I reeled on the spot and Mike ran up to steady me. He took me under a shade of tree wordlessly, and gave me a bottle of chilled water to drink. I drank and came to, and they let me sit a while. Then I started working again.

This companionship and bond between us all was overwhelming to me. I nearly tear up when they treat me as one of their own, calling me over when Tina and Marley finally arrive with refreshments.

Tina (who is Mike's wife) and Marley (Millie Rose, Tavern's chef's daughter) are here to give us a bit of heaven. And by us, I mean, all the farmers of Hilltown. Everyone from every field comes over to their truck and the girls give us Styrofoam lunchboxes and Coca-Colas and Beers. A few lucky ones get their hands on two boxes but nobody minds. We sit down in groups under the shadows of trees and some even in their cars, cranking up the AC for a while.

This feels beautiful. Ryder and Jake joke around constantly, teasing Mike about his wife. Tina is pregnant, from what I gather. And Mike is nothing short of blissful. He blushes a while and then tell the two jokers off. Sam and Rory pay attention to their food, smiling over at the three boys.

Some distance away, Puck sits on the hood of a car, eating his burger and surveying the land with the eye of an emperor. There is a smile on his face that makes me conjecture at his standing in these people. Clearly they love him, mohawk or no. But I wonder what earned him this level of respect and love from almost all of these people, that is almost the entire town.

After an hour, when finally everyone is well fed, we take up the work again. Tina and Marley leave the cases of Beers and Cokes near a car and drive away between the chorus of many Thank Yous and Love Yous and It Was Delicious etc.

Puck announces that the fields looked good and required another upending before they were good for sowing. The farmers cheer because this was really a good day's work. And then they work extra hard to get it done sooner.

"When do we go home?" I inquire Jake who has partnered with me this time.

"Before sunset. Puck usually let us off before that but today it has been great. He wants to get more work done."

"It's amazing how much you people care for this stuff," I remark. "In California nobody was that into farming."

"You aren't in California now, Kurt," says Jake, there is bitter note to his voice. "We have to produce crops because we have to pay our dues to Mayor and we have to get money to pay bills and taxes. This isn't just work and fun for us. This is our food, money and blood. Land is everything for us and we love it so it loves us back."

Unconsciously, as if he had done it more than he could recall, he looks up at the sky. I follow his lead. Hilltown's sky remains, to this day, cloudy as ever. But the heat persists and clearly the rain was never going to fall. I realize why Jake looked up. Even if we work our asses off on this land, it would be useless if it doesn't rain soon. And if what Jake has told me is true, these people would have nothing left without rain.

I resume the work, pouring my hopes into the land I was tending.

Blaine and David reached the fields well before the sun went down. Some of the farmers had already left but he knew that Puck would be here as he'd promised.

They walked toward the three fields that Puck's grandfather, Old Riley, owned. Puck stood near Sam and Joe, looking over at a few of his boys who were finishing up the work. They made their way towards him.

"Puckerman," Blaine said in a way of greeting.

"Anderson," said Puck, looking at them with a tight smile. "Good of you to come on such short notice."

"What do you want?" Blaine asked, cutting to the chase.

Blaine wasn't a hater of Puckermans, not really. He admired the way this town treated these men. They worked hard for the good of everybody. What he disliked was the fact that Puck never extended the same kind of respect toward him and his Warblers. Because what they did was also for the good of town's people, even if their methods were a bit bloody.

"I was informed that you have taken charge of keeping Hummels place secure," said Puck. "Thank you for that. I can only spare so many boys and keep the crops in order at the same time. It was nice of you, really."

"You called us here to thank us?" Blaine asked, sounding surprised. Because a Thank You form Puckerman would amount to an I Love You, in his opinion.

"I did," said Puck sincerely. "We don't know what Kurt is capable of yet. We intend to find out. But the priority is to keep him safe for now. Smyth already has tried to make a move on him."

Kurt, Blaine thought, must be the new Hummel kid. "He has?"

"Yes, he got in our school this Friday," said Sam. "I am amazed Kurt didn't break his wrist."

"He's stronger than he looks," Joe muttered warmly.

With Puck's permission, Sam recounted the whole event of last Friday in school. Blaine frowned, feeling worried. If this Kurt was as talented as his father and Burt suspected, it would be a folly to let Smyth try anything again. They would have to do something about this, and soon.

"Well, that's a cause of worry," remarked Blaine when Sam said his piece. "What do you suggest we do now?"

Puck looked at Sam and grimaced uncomfortably. This wasn't their desire but they had no other plans than this.

"I know Burt hasn't answered you satisfactorily, yet," said Puck slowly. "And I know why Anderson wants to ally with Hummels. But, I propose, for Kurt's safety, to form a temporary alliance with the Garglers."

"Warblers," Blaine corrected automatically.

The alliance with Puck, connected as he was, could be of great use. He could think of endless possibilities and freedom that would allow him and the Warblers to go about town and places that weren't welcoming to them before. He knew his father would trust his judgment and accept whatever he decided. His Warblers, he was sure, would follow his lead to death. So he did what was obvious.

"All right. We can ally. But how temporarily?"

Puck pursed his lips and looked back at the working boys. "Till he knows what's going on. Till we know what he is capable of doing."

"That makes sense," said Blaine, feeling that the meeting was drawing to a close. "If that's all…"

"No, wait," said Joe. "You should meet Kurt. He should know you and your a team if we are to ally."

"That makes sense, too," remarked David.

Puck then called aloud, "Kurt! Can you c'mere a moment!"

As Blaine watched, a boy stood up straight, letting his spade fall to the ground in his feet. He was tall and the only word Blaine could think of to describe him—beautiful.

His jeans, that were dirty and faded, hugged his waist snugly and hung a bit low, showing a strip of smooth, pale stomach as he walked. The white tank top he wore was drenched in sweat and muck, hugging the contours of his torso with sculpted care. His brown hair, which must have been previously well kept, were ruffled due to warm wind and disturbed as if he had run his hand through them a lot. Sweat ran in rivulets along his—luscious, Blaine thought—neck.

Then there was his face. The pale face that looked curious and a bit puzzled as he walked toward them. And those lips, that were red and full and admirably shaped. And his nose, a bit up tilted, was perfect. But it was his eyes that held Blaine's gaze. He couldn't just put a name to his eyes. Green? Blue? No, wait a minute; they were Grey a moment ago!

Kurt walked toward them, looking at the two new boys in turn. His gaze fell on the shorter one and he frowned. Have he seen this boy before? As he went closer, he realized that yes, he had. This was one of those late night visitors. The boy with curly hair.

"Yes?" he asked Puck as he stopped in front of them.

Blaine nearly gasped. Even his voice was mesmerizing, and that's only when he sounded confused.

"Kurt this is Blaine Anderson and David," Puck introduced. "They live at Dalton House; maybe Burt would have mentioned it."

Recognition shone in Kurt's eyes. "Oh, the house on the hill! Yes, I have seen it. So you live there?"

Blaine faltered. Kurt was addressing them directly and he suddenly had no words. "Yes," he managed.

"They just wanted to say hi," said Puck. "They may be coming down to work with us sometimes. So I thought you should meet them."

"It's nice to meet you," said Kurt modestly. Then he held out his hand.

Blaine took his hand and marveled at how soft it was. Then he remembered that Kurt was holding a spade a moment ago. He silently cursed Puck to let him work like this. It would get his hands hard in no time.

Then Blaine mentally shook himself. What was wrong with him! Why was he acting like Nick! He let go of Kurt's hand as if it had jolted him.

Mystification flickered in Kurt's eyes a moment, but then it cleared away. "Well, that is, Puck?"

"Yes, that's it! In fact, call the others; we should wrap this up anyways."

Kurt looked at Blaine and David one last time and walked away to call his friends.

Blaine watched him all the while. He was still confused at his feelings and the way his breath hitched when Kurt had talked to him directly. He just had a rough day, maybe. He will be fine when the novelty of Kurt and his "gorgeousness" wore off.

He was so immersed in his thoughts and Kurt that he missed half of what Sam was saying.

"…to make the alliance official. It would be like a celebration. What do you think?"

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't…"

Sam gave him a funny look. "I said that you guys can join us for the dinner at Tavern. We are headed that way."

David raised his eye brow at him. Blaine wet his lips and said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It would give us a chance to learn more about you," said Puck. "And about how you work and how we work. Think of it as preliminary dinner, or something."

"Well, then, yes," said Blaine, smiling dazzlingly. "We shall most certainly join you."

Of their own accord, his eyes fell on Kurt as he came back toward them with others. Yes, Blaine thought, he would love to join them.


	3. Chapter 3: As the Night Falls

**~ CHAPTER 3 ~**

**As the Night Falls**

If anyone has ever told me that, "Kurt, one day you will find yourself sitting between a crowd of dirty, sweaty boys, eating fat ridden food (god forbid) and having the time of your life as a straight boy"—I'd have told them to fuck off. But now, I would have told them they were the geniuses.

Because this is exactly the situation I find myself in.

Here I am sitting in Hill Tavern, between Jake and Ryder, across from all my friends and the two new boys, Blaine and David, who are from the Warblers—whatever that is?

At first I am too overwhelmed by the sight of the Tavern. It's rustic and chic at the same time, an old spot with splashes of new here and there. The woodwork is absolutely to die for; the bright lightening conditions are welcoming compared to the continuously darkening outdoors. The AC sprinkles the gusts of cool breeze toward us and—for the group of sweaty boys who worked their asses off in heat all day—it is heavenly.

Jake filled me, and the Warblers, in on the Tavern history even as we drove here. He told us that this has been in Puckerman family for well over fifty years. That his great grandfather set the foundation of it back in 1940s. And that Old Riley, their grandfather, was going to give it to their father but he died as a soldier. So naturally, Puck was the legal owner of the Tavern now. But the responsibility for running and regulating the Tavern was still Old Riley's, as Puck had a lot to do besides that.

And then I started imagining about what else Puck might be doing for the betterment of the town folks. But my thoughts are disturbed when a robust, kind looking woman comes to greet us all. It is Millie Rose, Marley's mother and Tavern's head chef, known to Puck and everyone else lovingly as Rosa.

Rosa exclaims and half-hugs all the boys as her own, telling them off for not coming here as often as they used to. She then notices me and the two Warblers and introductions are made.

"So, you are Kurt!" she says excitedly and I blush. I hadn't realized that I was already so famous! "Finally! We thought Paul would never bring you to us!"

An awkward silence follows. And I realize that none of the boys has said anything about my Dad's death to her. So I stay silent too, and answer her with another smile.

Blaine shatters the silence by heartily saying, "Well, I'm starving! What do you have for us Rosa?"

And it works. Everybody starts listing off their order and Rosa has quiet a job on her hand as she tries to understand every one of them. But I was too busy trying to catch Blaine's eye, to thank him, for I do believe he just saved me the trouble of discomforting myself further. But the boy is too excited and ravenous to notice me.

The boy. The very same one from the first night. Ever since I'd seen him on field today, all I can think is—how the hell I didn't notice that he was so breathtaking? Why didn't I notice how beautiful his face was? Or how adoring his curly hair looked, when ruffled by the warm breeze? Or how perfectly delicious his skin looked under the orange-ish light of clouds?

Oh, because I was so confused and suspicious of my uncle's motives, that's why! But seriously, how could I have thought that my friends were all handsome? Because next to him they dulled in comparison so majestically, that I hardly notice when Finn throws himself in the door with a huge smile.

Only the noisy cheers of my friends draw my attention away from the curly-haired boy. I see as Finn launches himself for a few hugs and pokes Ryder until he is squeezed beside me. He looks so happy and excited, but his smile fades when he notices additional boys across from us.

"Who are you?" he asks directly.

"Blaine Anderson," says Blaine with a frown. "We came to visit your father a few nights ago."

Finn nods with sudden realization. "Oh. Yeah. You did. What are you doing here? I thought my Dad made it clear that he didn't want—"

"I invited him, Finn!" Puck intervenes hastily. "I know that your Dad is—uncertain." I swear he briefly looks at me here. "But we need help. And they are offering so, yes, I invited him and his Garglers to work with us."

Finn looks conflicted. "Can I tell Dad?"

"Yes, and may be he will reconsider their offer."

Blaine joins in with agreement. "Look, our priority is the betterment of everyone in this town. And also of your—well, we meant what we said at the meeting. We want to ally." He looks at Finn with so much intensity and sincerity that I suddenly feel hot. What happened to the AC?

Finn only nods but his face doesn't break into that excited goofy smile again. He looks at Puck meaningfully and says, "Can I talk to you for a moment, Puck?"

They both excuse themselves and get up from the table. They walk over to the other side of the vast Tavern and sit down in a deserted booth, talking rapidly in hushed voices.

OK, here's the thing. I know that I look delicate and innocent. I have, at some points in my life, been called innocent and naïve by so many people that I've lost count. But here's the catch, I'm none of the above. I'm determined and reasonable when the situation demands it. And I have to prove this to everyone before they believed me. And as my father always said, I'm strong when it matters to be strong. Clearly my friends have the same opinion and they want to save me the horror and trouble. But no more. They have to stop this madness.

"Ok, someone," I say with conviction, "tell me what's going on here, right now. I'm not an idiot! I know the only reason they are over there being secretive is because they don't want ME to know. And I also know that you guys know what they are talking about. So, please, tell me what's going on!"

Of course, they look surprised. But I don't give them a chance to recover. "Either you guys tell me or I'm leaving."

I readily get up to leave. Three or four voices cry "NO!" and hands grab me and yank, till I'm seated again.

Joe and Rory look sort of sad, but Jake and Mike have this desperate look on their faces, the look of people who are about to break down. Ryder's the only one who doesn't look like he'll drop dead due to nerves.

But to my surprise, it's Blaine who answers. "Look, Kurt," he clears his throat tensely. "There's a lot you don't know about this place—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm new. I'm a stranger. There're rules. We are servants!" I snap at once, fed up with all their round about answers. "I know all this shit, OK! But that's not what I wanna know and you all know it! So, please, I'm asking just one more time. What. Is. Going. On?"

Joe opens his mouth—I'm sure, to say something wise and kind—but I don't let him say anything. My anger is peeking rapidly and I'm just warming up.

"I am the ignorant new-kid here. Oh, yes, let's protect the new-kid like he's a maniac. Oh, let's make him a laughing stock by taking his case to town's Sheriff. Let's ask the poor boys to stand guard outside his house all night! Let's, to make it worse, tell him nothing at all! And yes, let's don't forget about making him work in the field all day, despite the fact he nearly fainted in the first two hours of his first day!"

Blaine gulps visibly. What has he got to be so nervous about! I'm the victim here!

By now everyone is looking at us—or more specifically, at me. I catch sight of Marley poking her head out of the kitchen door, her eyes round and wide in shock. Finn and Puck break up their discussion and come over.

"Back to your food, everyone! It's not the opera!" Puck yells loudly and all the customers ignore us with a display of obedience that makes me angrier. It's like EVERYONE here wants to make me feel like a stranger, an ignorant whining kid!

Finn hovers close to me. His innocent eyes wide and worried. "Kurt, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Oh, great. My eyes are leaking. Just what I need right now. I sniff heavily and shakily, "What's going on, Finn? I need to know."

When he understands my meaning, and still doesn't answer me, instead looks down in shame and uneasiness—I break down completely. Tears pour down my face in pools and the sobs threaten to escape my mouth. I get up—this time no one stops me—and head out the door. The hot air attacks me with a vengeance, but I'm too miserable to care. If I start walking now, I'll be home and in my room in the next hour.

I walk away, not looking back to see if anyone is following me or not.

Blaine and others sit in shock. The evening that had started with a promise of being a happy one, has turned into a nightmare so fast they had no idea what they did wrong.

But they had done everything wrong. Kurt was right after all. They were the ones to blame. The ones with shithole of a town and shitty rules and even worse problems—problems they couldn't just speak of that easily to Kurt. He'd run away in the opposite direction if they told him, he'd turn tail and run till Hilltown was just a distant memory for him.

But they needed him.

Mike wouldn't admit it openly but he had started to like this kid. Kurt was all things good and compassionate, qualities that he admired and that reminded him of Tina and why he loved her. There were less kind people in the world—in Hilltown to begin with—and Kurt was a beautiful addition to their motley group of friends.

Puck was in misery. How the fuck did this all happen? It was so perfect! Kurt was their man, now. He was their buddy! But, no, they had to treat him like child and alienate him like this! And he'd worked so hard to make this happen, to make Kurt comfortable. He had built so many hopes on what Kurt might bring to this town, love, peace, and cure! When did it all went wrong?

Ryder and Jake were confused. They knew why Puck looked pissed. They must have let slip something in front of Kurt without realizing it. Or worst, they must have done piss-poor job of keeping him safe in school. Yes, that's what it was. Kurt would never suspect of anything otherwise.

Rory sat sadly in his chair. He could understand why Kurt was sad; he was new here, and he missed his father. Rory missed his family too and missed his home back in Ireland. He could understand only too well how confusing and mysterious it all must seem to Kurt. He could see it in his nice looking eyes that he felt unwanted and an outsider, what with all the secrets they kept from him.

Joe wished that Puck would stop working too hard. Wished he'd stop going to such length to save Kurt. The new kid was obviously able and talented, and he wasn't even arrogant like some out of town people are. He was actually really nice. But no matter how nice, anyone could freak out the way Puck had treated him.

Each boy sat and contemplated upon the situation. And each one of them came to the conclusion at once. They had to let Kurt know everything.

"We can't!" Finn broke the silence, reading it in their expressions that they all wanted the same thing. "Dad would kill us all! We can't! He specifically told us not to freak him out—and this!—this will freak him out!"

"Do you have another suggestion?" asked Puck miserably. "I'm sure if we told him how much he means to us, he'll stay. Not like he'll run away. He's sworn to you guys, isn't he?"

Finn shook his head in agony. "That's just it. He isn't. It's just a document with Dad's signature on it. We never asked Kurt about it! We never even went through the initiation!"

Blaine wasn't paying any attention to the farmer boys. He was too deep in thoughts. His mind was filled with images of Kurt angry, Kurt vulnerable and Kurt crying. The doubt and hurt in Kurt's eyes as Finn failed to answer him. All these images were too vivid in his trained mind. He could practically feel Kurt's anger, humiliation and desperation in his veins, in the air as it vibrated off of him.

And all he could think was, how can Kurt look so beautiful when his face was flushed in anger, when his eyes went icy green and sparkly. How could he manage to influence Blaine so greatly? When he spoke, all Blaine could see was Kurt. All he could feel was Kurt. In that moment, Blaine was so feebly open to Kurt that he shuddered at the possibly of it.

He? The trained hard-core leader of Warblers, the best assassin in the entire town, was rendered paralyzed by just one boy. A devastatingly beautiful boy, but still. What would his Warblers think of him, had they seen how frozen he was?

But his thoughts shattered as Finn uttered those words. Blaine came back to earth in a flurry of dread. "Wh-what? What did you say?"

Finn hid his face in his hands. "He isn't sworn to us. Not yet," he mumbled miserably.

David and Blaine sprang into action at that. "But that could mean that anyone can do anything to him while he's out there!" Blaine nearly screamed.

Puck nodded, looking a little scared. "Yes. I know it's too much to ask and that it's our first day—"

"Don't bother. I'm going after him," Blaine said hastily and signaled David to follow.

They both came outside and frowned in agitation. Yes, the night was already deep, meaning they no longer had the upper hand. They started jogging toward the direction of the hill.

"David, I need you to go and call on Wes," said Blaine between strides. "He's been on duty on the roof today. Ask him where Kurt was headed. Run to it, now!"

David broke into a run at his words. Blaine made a beeline for Hummel's house. If he knew Kurt, as well as he could in the few hours he'd seen him today, he'd make his way home to cry in peace. But they had to be certain. Anything could've happened to him already.

But, it couldn't have. If Wes was on duty, as Blaine knew he was, the Warblers must've acted immediately. If they'd spotted anything out of the ordinary going on in town's streets, they would've responded with action at once. And since none of his Warblers have texted him, he checked his phone as he ran once again, it means nothing has happened yet.

The answer presented itself to him as he rounded the first bent toward the suburbs. A lonely, hunched figure was slowly walking a few paces ahead of him.

As was his training, Blaine made his way toward Kurt in absolute silence, placing his hand gently on the other boy's shoulder. He was so silent that he sacred Kurt to death—and into reaction.

Kurt gasped heavily and turned—and delivered a punch in Blaine's gut, followed by a knee in his groin.

"OCUH! SHIT!" Blaine screamed and fell on his knees.

"Oh. My. God!" said Kurt, his tear-filled eyes wide and worried. "I'm so sorry! I thought—I thought I was being mugged!"

He didn't want to, but Blaine almost complimented Kurt on his reflexes. His gut was still clenched and his balls hurt like hell. But all he could do was gasp and stare at Kurt.

Kurt came near and sat on his knees too. "Here, let me help you." And Blaine found himself in Kurt's gentle, yet strong, hold as he steadied him to his feet. "Was I too harsh? Did I—" Kurt blushed and looked at Blaine's groin, "Did I get you bad?"

Now he couldn't help himself. Blaine laughed. He laughed till his gut hurt more and his eyes watered. Kurt looked at him in shock and silence, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful curly-haired boy as he laughed brighter than sun. How stupid he was? He could've at least stopped to look who it was behind him before bursting into action. But he was trained by his father to "react and run." That's how he was still alive after all the miserable years at school.

Blaine sobered a little. His gut was back to normal but it still hurt to stand up on both his legs without wincing. So he couched, bending and placing both his hands on his knees, wheezing to get hold of his breaths. "YOU—" he chocked back another laugh. "You should see you face!"

Of all the things Kurt thought Blaine would say, this wasn't it. He could only stare as Blaine suffered another fit of repressed giggles. "Look," he said, not caring if Blaine listened, "I'm sorry. I should have seen who it was before reacting like that. But I need to go now. I'm not feeling really chatty or in mood to laugh right now."

Blaine stopped giggling at these words. He remembered why Kurt was here alone in the first place and he felt mortified. "At least, let me walk you home."

Kurt held back a surprised gasp. He was by now used to walking home with Finn or any other of his friends. But such an offer from Blaine was—well, unusual. But pleasant. So he just nodded.

Both the boys walked in silence. Kurt kept his eyes down on the way and Blaine kept looking at him surreptitiously. Kurt looked thoughtful and he chewed on his lips without any conscious thought. Blaine found it highly amusing. So much so, that a chuckle escaped him.

Kurt looked at him in annoyance. "What's it now?"

"You. I'm trying to make sense of you."

If anything, Kurt looked more uneasy at that. He pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and bit his lips more furiously. Then he said suddenly, "Are you going to tell me or do we have to just walk home in silence?"

Blaine knew what he meant. "I want to tell you, Kurt." He felt a little uneasy at having to say his name. Could Kurt detect how gently he said it? "I really do. But my only concern is that you wouldn't take the information that easily. I have no idea that you'll kick me in the balls again or just run in the other direction."

Kurt stopped short, looking at Blaine in incredulity. His mouth hung open slightly and he blinked rapidly. This wasn't the answer Kurt was imagining. He had thought it was more personally regarding himself than any other person involved. "I don't understand. You are telling me it's not just my Uncle or Finn who want to keep things from me? That it's the entire town?"

Blaine chuckled again. "Yes, Kurt. This entire town. These phony rules. The taxes, the servility. It all is due to a reason. And if I told you that reason, you'll do exactly as your father did all those years ago. You'll pack up and leave, never contacting Burt again, never calling Finn, never attending his wedding and never seeing your nephews or nieces when they are born."

His words hit Kurt like a whip. He visibly flinched, curling in on himself. His face flushed in mortification. "Is that why—why Dad left here? Is that why I never knew about Burt or Finn or Carole?"

"And you also didn't know about Burt's first wife. Elizabeth." Blaine tried to make it sound light. Tried to talk more of his family than their original topic. "She was Sue Sylvester's best friend. She was, I've heard, really beautiful and Burt was madly in love. But—she died due to reason I am not certain about. She died and Burt was miserable. But your father was always there for him. Burt lived to keep your father happy, he married Carole because your father introduced them. He fell in love with Carole too, but it wasn't the same as Elizabeth. But Carole already had Finn, he was three years old, I think. And ever since, Burt has devoted all his life trying to keep his family safe."

Kurt was smiling now. He looked proud of his Uncle, but he also had tears in his eyes. He looked at Blaine in wonder and said, "Then? Then what happened?"

"Well, the Smyths happened. They won the elections the year you were born to Paul and Lily." Blaine didn't realize it but he was leaning very close to Kurt now. Kurt, mesmerized with the story as he was, also didn't comprehend how close they had moved. "Burt and Paul had a fight, from what my Dad told me. They argued and it went to a point that Paul said he'd leave and never come back. I don't know why they argued, what the reason was. But it has something to do with the Smyths and their new and strange rules for the town. I believe Paul wanted Burt to leave with him but Burt decided to stay here and help people with his job and expertise. Well, the rest is history. Paul and Lily went away and never came back." Blaine took another step toward Kurt. "Until you did."

I hardly dare to breathe. All I can see are Blaine's eyes. The hazel and green blown away and replaced with only darkness and passion so relentless that my breath hitches. When had he moved so close? Is he even aware of what he is doing to me? Can he hear how hard my heart was beating against my ribs?

All I want to do is to step forward, and kiss him senseless. My entire body is aware of just this one course of action and I would've done it too. But suddenly, I can't see Blaine. Suddenly it is darkness everywhere.

When I can finally see again, I nearly smile. Blaine is hovering over me, looking down at me with concerned honey colored eyes. His face breaks into that smile again, the brighter-than-sun smile.

"Welcome back," he says, helping me up. And, I'm in his arms. "You fainted," he explains casually.

Oh, wow. Great. Two times in a day. This must be a record. I'm not usually a fainter. "Sorry, I forgot to breathe." Shit. Now why would I tell him that?

Blaine smiles again, eyes sparkling. "Yeah, I figured."

Wait, he figured? Did he know that he was the reason why I wasn't breathing? Did he know the effect he had on me? Judging by the faint smile and slight blush on his cheeks, maybe, he had an idea. Oh, lord, kill me now! This is beyond embarrassing! I can't be outed like that!

"I think I'm fine now," I hurriedly get up and away from the circle of his arms, swaying a little. "I think I can walk home by myself, too."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Blaine garbs my arm forcefully. "If I haven't made it clear why Burt wants you safe and sound, I can tell you everything all over again. But believe me when I say, you are not getting out of this. Burt wants you protected, so Puck and I will make sure you stay protected. End of discussion." He let go of my arm.

We start walking home again. He is in front of me, walking on purposefully. I dare say it is quiet a view, and I try very hard not to stare at his ass. But after a few seconds, something else strikes me about his pose. His shoulders, although nicely shaped, are tensed. He keeps looking about, in distance, in shadows. He even half-stops, as if listening to something and then moves on, sometimes picking his pace or slowing it.

"Are we—are you looking out for the muggers?" I ask him the obvious question.

He spins on his heels till he is facing me, looking shocked. Then he chuckles tightly. "Muggers? No, not muggers. They wouldn't be out here at this time."

"Uh, yes they would," I argue. "The evening and darkness is the best time for muggers to come out. They can't get caught that way."

Blaine flashes me a smile over his shoulder. "Let's just say there are worst things to worry about in this town at night than measly muggers."

"Like what? Boogie monsters and werewolves and vampires and what-nots?"

He stops and spins around again. This time he looks amazed and a little—I think—impressed. But he shakes his head slightly baffled. "Yes, Kurt. Like that. Can we walk fast now?"

I had no problem to his walking fast. As long as I get to enjoy the view, right?

When we are close to our street, Blaine stops altogether. And holds up his hand to stop me as well. This time he listens and observes for two minutes full. Looking at every shadow, peeking in every yard and tree. Then finally, he nods to himself and continues on.

"You know, you are either being extremely weird," I say as we walk up the driveway of my house, "Or just trying your hardest to scare me."

"Actually, I'm trying neither," he says. "Well, that's that then. And just for the sake of people, who care about you, don't storm off outdoors after sunset. Ever. Please."

His sudden dismissal and request makes me more confused than I ever felt in a presence of somebody so hot like himself. But he looks sincere, so I agree. "I'll try my best."

"And, I shouldn't be saying this after how you nearly castrated me," he adds with humor, "But if somebody sneaks up to you again, do exactly what you did to me. All right, bust some balls. And then run like hell."

I mock salute and giggle. "Yes, sir!"

He chuckles again and seems to realize something and suddenly stops. When he looks at me again, his gaze is inscrutable. The expression on his face is nearly terrified and stunned at the same time. But he says nothing. He mock salutes back.

"So long, Kurt! Until we meet again."

He backs out of the driveway, and keeping an eye out again, walks down the street till I can no longer see him.

When I had fled from the Tavern, I thought I'd spent the rest of my evening crying and feeling miserable because my family was keeping things from me. But incredibly, due to Blaine, I did none of those things. Instead, I lounge in my bed and stare at the ceiling, thinking about what Blaine has told me of my father and his escape from this creep-town.

It makes sense, and it doesn't. It makes sense that's why Dad never talked about Burt or Hilltown. But it doesn't make sense why he'd just let go of his family like that. And it doesn't make sense that any argument could ever force my father so far away from his family. Because of things that Paul Hummel was, vengeful wasn't one of them. He was the most compassionate and loving person I've ever known—kinda like Burt—and he taught me about love and friendship and importance of family all the time.

"Family is like breathing; you can't just stop breathing for no reason. Not unless it's the only thing left to do," he used to say. And in retrospect, and in light of Blaine's story of my family, for the first time his words made sense.

When Carole knocks on my door and asks if I wanted something—I guess, Finn called ahead and told her about my meltdown as she didn't come inside my room— I tell her no, thanks. Even Finn knocks at my door some time later when he returns. I ignore him and don't bother answering. I still feel angry about him. Burt doesn't come up and I know that Finn must've told him everything. I am grateful that he didn't. Because if he did, I'd have gone to town on him with all my frustration and questions and my head is aching as it is.

So I take off my clothes and throw myself in hot shower, freeing myself of the sweat and grime of the whole day. It's such a relief to just be clean that I turn off the light, change into my night clothes and surrender myself to sweet sleep. I sleep deeply, considering all the stress and anxiety, and I dream about melting, honey brown eyes looking at me with wonder and something more.

This isn't right, thought Blaine as he yet again stopped for a moment, listening closely.

The things he felt, the way he let his guard down in front of Kurt. It was all wrong. It was all against his training and his aims. He should be thinking about something else. He should be thinking about plans, strategies, what to do with Puck and his friends, how to best help them now that they were allies! He should be thinking about what he can get back from Puck and his connections, he should be thinking about the ways he could make Warblers far reaching and more influencing than they already were.

Most of all, he should be thinking about why he felt that something was following him.

He stopped short once more and focused all his hearing upon the slight shuffling sound. Yep, someone was following him.

But whoever it was was being careless. They were actually letting him hear about the pursuit. The only reason they'd do that is if they wanted a confrontation or wanted to talk.

Understanding this, Blaine walked and stopped when he was standing, feet apart, in the middle of the street under the yellow glow of the streetlight.

"All right, show yourself!" he said to the night.

A round figure stepped out of the darkness and stood ten feet away from him. It was a girl wearing slacks and maroon t-shirt, her hair falling loose and glasses perched on her nose.

"Lauren Zizes," Blaine muttered hatefully. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She smirked. "I was waiting when you'd let our pretty boy go, before I could talk to you."

Blaine waited, watching her every move closes.

"I see that you are quiet stunned by him as everyone else is," she snarked.

"Everyone else?"

It was credit to his rigorous training that he maintained his composure at her accusation. Was he that obvious already? And it's been only a few hours since he'd met Kurt.

"You, us and them, you know." She came closer a step. "I dare say Sebastian is literally besotted with him. Kurt is all he could talk about the last time we met."

"You are telling me all this because…"

"Oh, just letting you know that all this protection is useless," she said, fiddling with her nails. "Sebastian's partiality to him renders every threat from us ineffective. He doesn't want Kurt hurt at all, you see. He just wants the opposite. If Kurt is willing and agreeable, Sebastian might make a man out of him, if you know what I mean."

"All I heard was _'protection is useless'_, and then I tuned the rest of the rubbish out," Blaine said unreservedly. "No can do, Zizes. Kurt is gonna be protected no matter what. And I should think the protection should be double if Sebastian intends to make a man out Kurt. That's more dangerous than anything we could have imagined."

A growl ripped from Lauren's throat at this direct insult to her Master. Her eyes behind the specs darkened till the whites were swallowed whole.

Blaine smiled slightly and put his hand inside his jacket, ready to draw out the short-length saber that was jammed in its sheath in his jacket inside pocket. Finally, he thought, an honest fight.

But Lauren composed herself in the next minute and smiles sweetly. "I didn't come to rip your heart out, as much as I'd like to Anderson. I came here with a proposition."

"I'll make no deals with you. I know what they say about making deals with devils," said Blaine coldly. "But let's hear it anyways."

"My Master wants you to know that we'll recommence the complete supplies for your father's store, if you'll let us communicate with Kurt."

Blaine bristled. "What do you mean? Are you behind the supply shortage?!"

Lauren just smiled. "Make the deal, and the town's people will leave your father alone. I heard he's had a rough day up there today."

Blaine's gaze wandered toward the hill, where he could see a few lights of Dalton House and his father's warehouse/store. "But that's an outrage!" he said, trying to be logical. "Mayor made it clear that he'd let us have full supplies if we let you alone to your own business. That's against the law, and we signed the contract!"

"Oh, that. Master also wanted me to tell you that from tonight, your contract is nullified. This is the new one. Let us near Kurt, and the town's people won't suffer from food shortages."

Blaine drew his saber out now, ready to behead the bitch. But Lauren only smiled, making no move to fight back. "Are you gonna kill me Blaine? Are you gonna kill the messenger? You know that it's against the parley."

"No. I'm gonna kill you because my contract is nullified. I'm no longer under obligation to let your kind live!" And he charged.

Lauren dodged the first slash easily, but the second one caught her on the cheek. Her cheek smoked and sizzled and she hissed in pain, slowly backing away.

"Make the deal, Anderson, and everyone goes happy. And its just one boy, what do you care! Let us have Kurt and you can have the town in peace! Or else…" Her voice was fading away as she retreated further in the darkness.

"Or else what…?" he shouted after her. No reply came.

His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. He fumbled and found it and accepted the call from Wes.

"Blaine! Are you OK? I saw from here, are you hurt!" Wes sounded concerned.

"I'm good. Everything else all right?"

"As far as I can see," said Wes. "Why did you attack her, Blaine? You know we can't do that unless they are hurting any of the humans! Why would…"

"They nullified our contract!" Blaine nearly shouted in frustration.

"They WHAT?"

"Assemble the Warblers, Wesley! I'm coming up and we need to have some major discussions. Call one of Puckpeople too, if you can. They need to know about this shit!"

The reason I wake up from my sweet sleep is that I know that something is wrong in the house. I can hear Finn's heavy footfalls outside in the hall, as he tries to hurry in some kind of late-night—it was 1 A.M.—chores. I am so curious that I forget about my anger and frustration earlier, and I get of the bed and in the hallway.

Finn is busy tying the laces of his sneakers, looking disheveled as if he just got out bed and got dressed clumsily. He starts when he sees me.

"What is happening?" I ask.

"Oh, Blaine called and Dad wants me to go," he mumbles groggily.

"Why did he call?"

"No idea. Something happened maybe."

I suddenly feel concerned. "Is he OK?"

"Of course, he's OK. He's a fucking Warbler." He says as if that explains everything

"Why isn't Burt going himself?"

"He's busy," says Finn evasively. "I gotta go, Kurt. Can you make sure Mom is not, like, worried."

I just nod and he half-runs half-walks down the stairs. I follow him barefoot. Carole is huddled on the sofa in the den; she perks up at the sight of us. "Kurt, honey, why are you up?" she says worriedly.

"Just heard the commotion. Stay calm, Carole. Sit down. It's fine. Finn's just stepping out for a moment."

Finn shoots me a thankful glance before rushing out the door. I lock it from inside and sit beside Carole.

"Where is Burt?"

Carole smiles but she looks worried. "He got held up in the shop. Someone's car broke down badly and they want it fixed and soon. Don't worry; he sometimes stays in the shop when cases like these come along. He'll be fine."

I nod. And I'm worried now. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, dear. That would be lovely."

I make coffee and persuade Carole to go to bed and leave the worrying to me. I have slept some hours and I wasn't that sleepy anymore. Besides, I want to wait up till Fin returns and ask him what happened and why Blaine-fucking-Warbler wanted to meet at this ungodly hour.

It's been half a day, and already Blaine was such a mystery that I felt fidgety just thinking about him. There was his personality, charming, quiet and mysterious at the same time. And then there was his house up on the hill and these Warblers he represented who seem to be the talk of the town. And now this, it's been hours since Puck's alliance with them, and the urgent late-night meetings were happening.

What pisses me off is that Carole seems OK with it. If I was a mother, I'd never let my son out like this for such a short notice meeting. But then again, it was one of those things that were just baffling in this town.

I look myself in the mirror. Yes, my face is clean. But I can't neglect my moisturizing. I can't have a freckly face. So I get busy in applying various creams to my face, all the while watching the clock and waiting for the doorbell.

When by 3 o' clock Finn doesn't come back, I get worried. I look outside my window, and wait. Out of curiosity I check the roof of the house across from us, and yes, there are two people standing guard there tonight as well.

One of them must be a Warbler, seeing how I don't know him. The other one is Jake. Looks like the watch duty goes to both Puck's team and the Warblers now that they are allied. I don't know if they can see me. I wave over to them and they don't respond. So I guess they can't see me.

To wait and watch the driveway, I drag a chair to the window and observe the watchers across from the roof. They do nothing, but stand in the chilling air. When I starts trembling a bit, I place the comforter around my shoulder, feeling worried for the poor boys outside who were protecting me from the lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

When a few more minutes pass, and I become a bit droopy, Jake and Warbler drop on their stomachs flat on the roof. I perk up and see them, trying to get my focus back. Their heads peek out of low raised walls of roof and they seem to be watching something on the street. I get up and push myself close to the glass, and my eyes go wide.

A man is standing right by the foot of our driveway. He wears dark clothes and a hooded jacket, with Ray Bans covering half his face. The man is watching our house, standing still and not moving a muscle. Then he looks up right at me. I know that face; I've seen it somewhere.

I squash closer to the glass till my nose is flat against it, trying to see why this man's posture and shape seems familiar to me. He responds with titling his head upward a bit more, and I see him smirk.

It takes all in me to not scream. Because Dave Karofsky is standing right outside my house.

Before I can lament the fact that I still don't own a cell phone or that I should go and call the police from the telephone downstairs, Dave perks up and tenses. The street floods with the illumination of headlight of a car. He looks toward the approaching vehicle and runs toward the shadows—very fast.

The two watchers on the roof stand up simultaneously, keeping their eyes in the direction where Dave ran off. The car shudders to a stop right in front of our house. Tall and clumsy, Finn climbs out of it. The car's battered Toyota which Mike drives. Finn says goodbye to Mike, who reverses out of our street. Then Finn waves and solutes the watchers on the roof.

I ran down the stairs and throw open the front door just as Finn is about to ring the doorbell.

"Dude, what's up? You look like shit!" he exclaims in alarm.

"Dave Karofsky was here!" I gasp out, just wanting someone to know. Before he has the chance to figure out what I mean, I am talking in alacrity and telling him everything that happened tonight—minus the Blaine part.

Finn swears when he at last understands what I am trying to say. He takes out his phone and calls Puck. Then he tells me that Puck knew, Jake called him a few minutes ago. Then he calls Blaine. Then he calls Burt. In short, he calls everyone there is to call. I just sit there while he freaks out about various 'promises,' 'initiations' and 'perimeters'.

All I can think about is the casual way Karofsky was just standing there, like he owned the very land he walks on. The way he was unafraid or unfettered about the fact that it was late in the night and that the Sheriff had announced of my safety in the school assembly. Most of all, I remember what Blaine said about nights in Hilltown—the worst things to worry about at night than just measly muggers. How worse is Dave if I need watchers and protection against him? Looking at Finn's concerned face, I believe, Dave is worse than anything I can imagine.

"Are you all right?" Finn asks me at last, sitting by me.

"Why was he here?" I have other, detailed question to ask, but for now, this one'll do.

"Probably to scare you, and it worked if your face tells me anything. You look paler than normal."

"Finn, what would happen if you guys aren't protecting me all the time?"

This is the worst question to ask from Finn. His face falls and he clenches his jaw. I am sure that he wouldn't replay me at all. But he does, and I haven't seen him so determinedly angry up to now.

"So that he can own you. You—you are new here and so nobody is exactly sure of your place in the town. Today was, like, your first day on fields but that doesn't make you a confirmed farmer. Being just a student doesn't count either. As long as they know that you are new, and useless, they'll try to own you."

Something clicks in my head; a memory of my first day at school. "Is that why I have to be—sworn to Hummels? So that it asserts my place in the town, in the family?"

"Yes. We haven't done the proper ceremony for it. Yet. But Dad would want to, after tonight. Dave's presence so close to the house is the most audacious step toward the rule breaking. Dad wouldn't want anything like this to repeat so, yes, soon you'll be formally initiated."

I don't even bother to ask if I would have any say in the matter. As far as they are concerned, my family wants me safe. So I'll do as they want me to do. Get trained as a farmer, get sworn in with the family, and make a place for myself in the town. I am happy here (not counting the weird stuff that keeps happening) I have friends who actually like me! I have a family here. And I don't want to loose any of this, not so soon.


	4. Chapter 4: Changed?

**~CHAPTER 4~**

**Changed?**

When I wake up today, there is something different about the light that shines down from my window. It's not the usual hot-orange-dusty light that is Hilltown's signature weather mode. It's grey, dark and almost moist. I run out of the bed and throw open my curtains, only to scream in delight.

For the first time since my arrival, it's raining outside. Finally, my newly born farmer-self rejoices.

I look at the clock and it's early. It isn't even 6 o' clock yet. So that means everyone is sleeping and has no idea about the rain. I run off to the bathroom, washing my face furiously. Something about me feels strange and I stop. No, my face is fine, as always. The days in fields haven't spoiled it yet, thank god for Carole's homemade beauty products. No, it's my body that feels wrong.

Curious and scared, I rip off my night shirt and stand half-naked in front of the body length mirror, recently installed behind my bathroom door by me. And I nearly scream again. Who is this person?

My skinny body is changed in ways that have, since today, escaped my notice. It's been a month, I agree, since I've started working so hard; but a month couldn't make such a difference without me noticing, could it?

My arms are well formed and—as I bend them experimentally—have biceps! I have biceps! But that isn't all; my soft flat stomach is changed too. I place my hand gingerly on my stomach and yes—I feel ridges of barely-there abs that have started to form. And the softness is gone, replaced with tautness that feels good in an uncanny way. I clench my fist and my whole arm becomes a rippling spectacle of veins and muscles.

I almost feel like punching my mirror, wanting to see if my (now strong) hand will break through the door behind it. But, no, this is impossible. I couldn't change so fast like this. I just couldn't… But even as I think about it, the past month, and everything I have experienced in it, runs through my mind. And it starts to seem possible how things have changed.

Finn's guess had proved wrong. Initiation didn't happen, even after Burt had raged about 'stupid rule-breaking runts of Smyths.' But I experienced so much, in such an overwhelming way that I felt myself as good as initiated.

I worked every weekend on the fields, starting Friday afternoons after school just to be good at it. Finn and I would go with Puck or Mike in their car. Finn would leave us at the station and I would go along to the fields. The first three barely fields, previously an expanse of hard earth, were tender stretches soil soon as the days pass. We sowed them with seeds and started on the next four fields adjacent to it. (Not Puckerman fields but anyone in Hilltown was welcome to help fellow farmers—the tax payments were helpful for all so we worked for others.) The routine for weekends couldn't have been easier. School, home, fields, Tavern, home, and then sleep.

The bond that I shared with my friends grew stronger if possible. So strong that I sometimes contemplated about telling them that I was gay. But something always held me back. A fear. Fear that they will stop being my friends, stop protecting me and then Dave and Sebastian would get to me.

Yes, I'd learned by now that Smyths and their followers were bad, bad people. I'd learned that it's not wise to cross path with them. I'd learned that after sunset this town slept; there are no outings, no clubbing or parties like back in California. I'd learned not to question whenever Burt and Finn disappeared to Burt's Shop for hours and came back looking as if they were on war. I'd learned not to question the caste system, the amount of authority the Smyths, the Trinity and their followers seem to wield everywhere. I'd learned to live with the fact that there were my friends willing to lay their lives in order to protect me. I'd learned that the Warblers were reserved and lived on top of the hill precisely to avoid any other contact with humans. I'd learned not to question why Puck still felt a bit suspicious of Blaine's team and the way things worked on the top of the hill. I'd learned to ignore the fact that sometimes my friends would observe me from the corner of their eyes, watching and waiting as if I'd turn into a monster any moment. I'd learned to ignore why they whispered about 'Kurt this and Kurt that' whenever they thought I wasn't looking. I'd learned to accept that nobody ever drove out of the town unless they had express permission for it.

Yes, I'd learned a lot. But I was still set on doing as I planned. I wanted this town to accept me. I wanted to make a place, no matter how long it took.

There was nothing new when we worked on the fields. Just an automatic feeling of using tools by hand, getting lost in the work and letting our minds wander. Well, nothing new for a few days. But as the Warblers promised, they sent on a few members to help with the plantation. It took us a while but we started trusting the newly allied friends. We started learning their names. David, Wes, Nick, Jeff, Kevin, Thad, Justin, Trent and Hunter. We started accepting them as friends.

But for me, Nick and Jeff held most attraction. They were the only ones, besides Thad and Wes, who came to work more often. They were—different than any friends I'd seen so far. The way they stuck together, and talked to each other; it wasn't normal. They would keep to themselves, answering us all with smiles or monosyllables. They would keep talking between themselves in low voices. They would argue and Nick would walk away for a while. And then Jeff would apologize and they'd be back on track.

I watched them and wondered everyday. Were they just shy or was there something more? Even when we invited them to Tavern (it became our dinning haunt after work on weekends) they'd refuse politely and make some excuse about "Blaine said to come back straight away." I wondered about what they did, for I've started to recognize that shabby pick-up truck they drive. I've seen that truck on the main road, this side of the check post, driving toward the forest road and out of Hilltown. What can they be doing out of town? Or in forest no less?

And I wondered why Blaine never joined us again. Not that I had higher motives, but I wanted to ask him about my observations. And I still dreamt about that night when he walked me home.

But that wasn't all that happened in my first month here. Burt gave me a wrapped box a few days back and I opened it to find a new mobile phone. It was not really expensive, but I was happy to receive it anyways. I'd thanked him profusely and he'd told me that all the important numbers were already saved on it. It was nice to be finally connected to all the people whom I counted as friends. There was one number though, that I avoided. Blaine Anderson. I don't know why Burt had his number saved for me, but I guess, as the leader of Warblers, he was pretty important in Burt's eyes. But I never contacted Blaine. I never had any need to.

I met Old Riley, the Grandpa Puckerman. He was that elderly man I saw from my window that one night. He was like Puck in various ways, he way he worried about Tavern and his customers, the way he wanted to be everywhere controlling, helping everything. I also met Mercedes' family. Mercedes had become, amazingly, a very close friend in school. She almost shared every class with me, she understood me and my fashion sense better than anybody. Between the two of us, we criticized Rachel Berry and the Trinity so much that it was a miracle we weren't in jail by now.

I'd learned that Finn was hopelessly in love with Rachel (beats me, because I've never seen anyone more arrogant or proud.) He would talk about her endlessly to me when we watched TV at night or shared warm milk before turning in for bed. I don't know, maybe he thought I was going to give him some advise or something, he just talks to me not really caring if my reactions were encouraging or not.

But I enjoyed my time with Finn. In between his dream-girl talk he would let slip a few names here and there or a few things that were unknown to me. Like the fact that she was one of the Deserters—the people who were un-sworn like me, but without protection of any family or group. And the fact that only reason she and her family wasn't dead was because her Dad and Mother were doctors at the Hilltown Memorial Hospital. They had a place in society here, and so nobody gave a damn if they were sworn or not. The injustice of it made my heart sting but that was the way things worked here.

One day at the fields, Mike, jokingly threw a spade at me. if I hadn't lunged away in time, I would have sustained serious injury in my leg. But as it were, they laughed, my friends. But Mike looked relieved too that I had dodged the low blow. He petted my shoulder and told me, "Nice reflexes, Kurt. You may yet survive this hellhole."

I chose to ignore this enigmatic remark. But then the blows got frequent. Not only Mike, my other friends would suddenly attack me in various ways. Considering the fact that I was so tuned in the trance-like place in my mind while doing my work, I got injured a few times, badly. But they treated me with first aid. The time I nearly lost my neck, Nick and Jeff were on the scene. My friends got a bit worried but the Warblers ran to my aid. I don't know how they did it, but they produced ointments and stitches from their pockets. Nick, being extremely gentle than I'd thought, stitched up my neck nice and easy. It didn't even hurt.

And then Jeff told my friends something really thought provoking. "Lay off of him till he gets better, will you?"

So they were all in on the let's-attack-Kurt games. Clearly this was a part of some bigger plan. Great, one more thing to figure out.

"It'll scar, I'm sorry," Nick said to me softly.

My friends let me off for a few days. Nick was right; I had a scar on the left side of my neck now. But then the attacks got harder, so did my reflexes. In fact, I started enjoying these little interventions. I started to laugh as I fought off my friends. I could even wrestle Sam into submission, that's how good I was getting slowly, and he was the one coming up with worst attack forms every time.

The Warblers never fought with me, but they were admirable spectators. They always seem to be cheering me on. I wondered if they were telling Blaine about these play/wrestling breaks we had during work.

Now, as I look myself in the mirror. It all makes sense. Those weren't just play/wrestle matches. They, my friends, were deliberately teaching me how to fight and defend myself from sudden attacks. And this was the result. I am getting in shape and have abs and biceps!

"Kurt! Kurt, c'mere!" Finn's excited voice comes from my room. He finds me standing half-naked in front of the bathroom mirror. I swear he runs an appreciative glance all over my developing body— Him, Puck and everyone, the sneaks! I think in a momentarily indignation.

"IT'S RAINING! IT'S RAINING, KURT!"

I allow myself a smile. Yes, it's raining. I've changed. I've learned. And today—I realize with a jolt that the date is 6th May, officially the date when I came here last month—the season was celebrating the change with a change of its own. It's raining!

Blaine sat in front of his piano and plucked at some keys. Sweet melody sounded in the air around him, and then he huffed and jabbed at the keys in frustration. It was good, but not good enough. Something was still missing.

It had been days since this uncalled-for melody had resided itself in his mind, and dreams. He knew, or thought he did, that the inspiration was the new-boy-in-town (he never dared even think his name) but he ignored these notions as soon as they started forming in his head. No, he was a musical person. He just thought of this melody on his own. He was going to play, perfect and make this melody his own. The new boy had nothing to do with it!

Then why did Blaine dream of a pair ever changing eyes? Why did he dream of a sweet melodious voice that sounded hurt, angry and yet so soft and innocent?

Blaine groaned in frustration and jabbed his hand on the keys again, an ugly sounds vibrated in the room.

"You're distracted," said a sweet voice from behind him.

Blaine turned to find his twelve-year old baby-brother, Cooper, standing in his pajamas.

"Hey, little one," said Blaine, his face breaking into a tired smile. "Did I wake you up?"

"Not, really." Cooper walked into the room and deposited himself on Blaine's lap, reaching for a clutter of papers with notes scribbled on it. "Wow. Either this new song is too scary or you just want to make your life miserable."

Blaine chuckles. "No, it's—I just can't get the melody right. It doesn't sound like it sounds in my head or my dreams. When I try to reproduce it…something doesn't sound right."

"So, yes. A scary melody," Cooper said with a nod. "Where's everyone?"

"Well…" Blaine squinted, recalling the locations of each of his Warblers. "Hunter and David have perimeters near hospital. Nick and Jeff are on the roof tonight, doing surveillance of the town. Thad and Trent are running perimeters near the woods. Wes and Justin are with some of Puck's boys protecting the Hummels. That's everyone."

Cooper gave Blaine a superior look. "I'm twelve, Blainey. Not stupid. Where's Dad?"

Blaine sighed and run his hand through his hair. The hair gel he'd forgot to wash off stuck in his fingers. He needed to shower soon.

"Dad is gone with Kevin to make contracts with some new suppliers."

Cooper's eyes went wide. "He's out of the town. Again?"

"Yes, since the Smyths nullified our contract, we have to ask other cities to supply for us. People will go hungry otherwise. There's already clamor for flour and dairy. Old Riley is worried that the Tavern will shut down if we don't do anything soon." He hadn't meant to unleash about everything to his little brother, but he was tired and aggravated.

"But…but what about when they know!" Cooper asked with a frightened look. "What if they know Dad's been going out of town? We don't have permission without the contract!"

"Don't worry. The guards at the check post are Puck's friends. They won't let anyone know about Dad's out-of-town expeditions. Besides, Dad's been gone three times already and nobody has done anything about it. It'll be all right, Coop."

Blaine suddenly picked Cooper up in his arms and started rib-tickling him. Cooper's laughter echoed throughout the silent house. As long as his little brother was happy and unconcerned, Blaine didn't give a damn about anything else.

"Let's get you to bed, shorty." Blaine stayed with Cooper till he fell asleep.

Before turning to bed himself, he checked on Nick and Jeff about how things looked in town. Everything appeared calm. From the binoculars installed on the roof of Dalton House, every street looked silent and sleepy. Blaine spotted a group of four boys on the roof in front of Hummels house. He spotted Hunter and David near the Hospital and nodded to himself. Everyone was doing their jobs as per usual.

He looked up at the cloudy sky and inhaled deeply. Something was different about the air tonight. It was refreshed and dust free. He didn't think too much of it; everyone knew that Hilltown's misery extended to weather too.

He said good night to Nick and Jeff, had a quick shower and went to bed. The teasing melody, and Kurt's eyes and voice haunted him throughout his dreams.

Blaine woke up the next morning to a pleasant scent in the air. A smile adorned his face and he jumped out of his bed. Throwing the curtains open he whooped. Rain. This was heaven for the Hilltown's people. This years' crops would definitely will be good—even if just by one rainfall.

He got dressed hurriedly and went downstairs to find all his Warblers there and eating the breakfast. Everyone looked tired. Blaine felt a momentary stab of guilt. He was here in the house, worrying about stupid melodies while his group had spent their time outside, and in rain too!

"Happy Rainy Morning, everyone!" he greeted them cheerfully.

"Morning," everyone mumbled tiredly back.

"How are you guys holding up?"

"Better than Nick and Jeff," Trent joked. "They had another argument, or so their faces tell me."

Jeff muttered darkly and threw his fork at Trent. Trent snatched it out of the air and giggled. Nick hung his head till his dark hair fell in his eyes, half-hiding him from the view.

"Peace, guys," said Blaine. "Okay. Report."

As he ate, his team told him about everything. Town looked fine. Hummels were all right. There'd been just five injured people brought to Hospital last night, nothing seriously wrong. There'd been no disturbance in the woods. All in all, everything's been the same as usual this last month.

"D'you think they've forgotten?" Justin asked softly. "About their deal?"

"No. They are just taking their time," Blaine said dismissively. "Besides, Puck said that was his problem. They should have gotten Kurt initiated by now anyways. So the Smyths can't touch him." He looked at Nick here. "How has he been doing, lately?"

Blaine tired to keep his composure, but he always asked about Kurt's training on fields. From Nick's reports, Kurt was learning fast and growing strong everyday. But so far, there hadn't been any other development. As Puck would say "He hadn't grown wings yet to fly us out of this shithole." Kurt's talent, whatever it may be, was still dormant. And everyday that passed made them loose a bit of hope. But it's been a month only. Nobody could learn or do so much in just a month.

"He's been good," said Nick, still uneasy about his argument but in control of his voice. "I don't know if he notices or suspects, but his body's getting stronger. He's a quick learner. He can defeat, with much focus and underhanded blows, all of his friends. And those dudes are kinda buff, when you think about it. I'm satisfied about Kurt's abilities, but they are not satisfactory against things like Karofsky or Sebastian."

Blaine nodded. "Still its batter than nothing. He may be able to hold them off long enough for us or Puckpeople to notice. That's all that matters."

"So what's our agenda today?" asked Wes as Cooper sleepily stumbled in the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," Cooper mumbled to everyone's responses.

Blaine helped his brother to breakfast, as he thought about the day's plan. Today wasn't weekend and Puck didn't work in fields with his friends. So there was no need to arrange for that.

"You guys should take a breather," he said at last to very shocked Warblers. "No, you've all had been very alert and working hard. I need you guys to rest today. So that you're all fresh for the night duties. I'll go run errands by myself."

"'With Andy gone? Are you nuts?" said Wes in shock. "There are supplies to be delivered! And not to mention our daily training!"

"Dad isn't here yet," Blaine said glibly. "He may not return for a few days, maybe. But we can afford to miss lessons for today. Go, rest. I'll take care of everything toady."

"Yes! No school!" Cooper cheered suddenly.

"Actually, only the Warblers are off for today," Blaine corrected suddenly. "You, sir, are going to school. No exceptions."

"Awe, but he's also one of us," Nock said affectionately. "Let the kid be happy, today, Blaine! It's raining, and what better excuse to miss school than that?"

Blaine wavered. "We can't. The school will ask about it and Dad's already absent. I'm sorry, Coop, you gotta go."

Cooper sighed majestically, resigning himself to fate. "OK. I'll take one for the team. You guys are so gonna owe me a movie night after this!"

"Deal," promised Blaine.

The Warblers cleaned up the kitchen and headed to their rooms to rest for the day. Blaine helped Cooper and drove him to school. He opened the Hillstore in his father's stead and got ready for the long, dull day as a grocer's son.

School today is as it is everyday. My watching friends, my best friend Mercedes and my step-brother keeps tabs on me all the time. I spot the Trinity throughout the day at intervals (a habit I've developed unconsciously) but they ignore me completely. Dave glares but I am too happy to care.

Yes, happy. Because Puck had excitedly told us all that the rain was gonna continue for a few days. For us and our hard work of last month, it meant heaven! Old Riley was throwing us a lunch party at the Tavern after school. So I was looking forward to the celebrations. I take liberty today with my wardrobe choice in honor of the party later. My skin tight jeans (that I had to pull on myself with much force than usual, thanks to my rapidly changing body mass) and white cotton shirt drew a lot of attention. But it was my black, sequined waistcoat that caught everyone's eyes. Well, it should. It was Marc Jacobs custom made, brought by my father for my sixteenth birthday last year.

Mercedes even went as far as to wolf-whistle when we met today. She had dressed for the occasion too and she looked stunning, I told her so. She had ignored my comment vivaciously but I swear she looked happy too.

The whole day today is a blur, from the first class to break and then the last few classes. My enthusiastic attitude and happy temper led me through the day towards the approaching celebration at the Tavern.

When I was going for my last class, though, Joe and Ryder appeared on my side and started walking with me silently. It took me a moment to realize that Dave was in the same hallway and he was looking straight at me. He didn't even look like he cared that I had two of my friends beside me. in fact, he titled his head curiously and boldly. Ryder cracked his knuckles next to me, ready to take a shot if things got worse. But Dave only looks, as Joe and I enter the last class. Ryder stands in the hallway until Dave decides to leave.

As I settle in my seat and the class begins, I see Ryder leaving hurriedly for the gym and he looks a bit worried. But the teacher starts the class so I don't think too much on it.

Ryder found Puck and Finn in the gym, warming up before the practice playoffs. He hurriedly explained to Puck about Dave's confrontation.

"Did he say anything?" asked Finn looking concerned.

"Not really," said Ryder. "But he didn't look at all bothered that we were there. He would've totally done something if Kurt was alone."

"Thank God you were there, guys." Fin heaved a relived sigh. "We gotta complain to Sheriff again. That's the second time Dave's ignored official orders."

But Puck wasn't listening. He looked thoughtful. His expression torn between concern and determination. He had a plan—plan that may help Kurt develop whatever talents he had—but he knew that his friends might not like his idea. Each of them had come to love Kurt as their own in the short time he's been here. He was more than just a talented kid now. He was family.

"I have a plan," Puck said hesitantly. "But it might be ugly."

Finn looked on with confusion, where as Ryder suddenly curses. "Oh, hell no!"

"We don't have another choice!"

"Yes, we do Puck! Let Kurt train a bit more. We can't expect him to be all powerful in just a month!"

Finn, now understanding their argument, stepped in angrily. "No way, Puck. I know you want what's best for town. But he's my cousin. He's family and I can't allow that."

"No, you are right, Finn. You can't allow that." Puck took out his mobile phone and dialed Burt's number. "But your Dad may agree if I told him my reasons."

Finn and Ryder watched on with worry as Puck explained to Burt about his plan. They argued for a while back and forth. But then Puck smiled in relief.

"All right, Burt. I promise we'll be nearby. Thank you so much! You won't regret it, I swear!"

Finn shook his head in disbelief. "He gave you the permission, didn't he? I can't believe it! Kurt's not ready yet!"

Ryder silently agreed. But Puck petted Finn's shoulder; he also looked concerned despite his plans. "I know, Finn. I am scared too. But let's just not think about what he's capable of just yet. We'll see soon enough."

"How soon?" asked Finn, dreading the answer.

"Just as the classes ends for the day," replied Puck, leaving Finn even more concerned than before.

Just as the class is about to end, five minutes to go, Joe receives a text message which leaves him puzzled. He looks at me and then goes to the teacher, whispering some excuse. Then he gets out of the class like somebody was after him.

I don't think much on it. I knew that I would never be alone. My friends always kept an eye on me wherever I went and Joe's absence from my class was not a big deal for me. But then I get a text message that scares me a little.

From Puck:

We had to leave for some work on field. Very urgent.

You think you can walk to Tavern without a ride?

I didn't understand what he meant by WE. Did he mean all of my friends or just a few boys needed at farm? But I could walk to the Tavern, no problem. I knew enough of the town by now. I could probably ask Mercedes to walk with me. So I reply him that, Yes, no problem.

But when the class ends, I can't find Mercedes anywhere. I start to look for Tina or Marley, who were surely headed toward the Tavern too. But shockingly, I can't spot any of my friends. So I decide to head to the Tavern myself.

But as I make my way to the locker to put away some of my things, the halls start to empty rapidly. A sense of dread engulfs me, a prickly sensation at the nape of my neck. I stow away my stuff, bow my head resolutely and start walking after a few schoolmates. As soon as I get out of here, I'll be better.

But then something heavy garbs me from behind, a hand clamps my mouth shut and the scream snuffs out of my mouth at once. My first thought is that I'm so dead. My second thought is that it's the same boy, Sebastian. But then I am forcefully spun around till I'm facing Karofsky.

There's an animalistic gleam in his eyes, but he doesn't attack me like I was hoping. He just watches me, up close and silently. My decision to scream and call for help—from the friends I knew will be close by—leaves me under his intense glare.

"Let go of me!" I finally find my voice.

"Why?"

His answer shocks me for a moment. "Because its against the rule!" I say stupidly. Then I correct myself. "Because the Sheriff warned you and everyone to—"

"Oh, you mean Sugar's Dad?" Dave says with a smirk. "Yes, I know what he said. But I'm not hurting you, am I?"

As if to prove his point, he let go of me. But he stands too close even now and keeps his wild gaze trained on me. I straighten up and try to think of a way to escape.

"What do you want?"

He smirks again. "I assure you what I want is something you won't be able to give me."

"Then let me go."

"OK. I will. Just a few more minutes."

Then he closes the gap between us and sniffs my neck and jaw. A growl reverberates in his throat. "Do you have any idea how scrumptious you look today?!" He looks at my clothes in accusation.

This is worse than I imagined. If anything, his weird behavior and snarling voice makes me even more scared. What should I do? Where were my friends? And most importantly, what exactly he wants from me.

Then I suddenly remember something. Something that Blaine told me not long ago. And I do exactly that. It surprises the both of us. I take advantage of his closeness and buck up my knee, right in his balls. Dave gives out a low moan and a snarl, backing away from me in agony. Then he looks up at me and there's no color in his eyes. My confused brain even made me think that his eyes were all black and no irises. But the opportunity is too good to loose. So I fully heed the advice Blaine gave me. I run.

But I have gone a few steps when a rough hand garbs my Marc Jacobs' jacket, popping a few buttons as it slits open. Dave growls right in my face as he garbs my shoulder and spins me around to face him. And this time there's no mistaking the blackness of his eyes. But something clicks in me—I half imagine myself to be under attack on the fields—and I respond at once. I bring both my arms up, into the circle of his hands that garb me from my shoulder, and I dig my elbows right in his chest. And it hurts. His chest is hard as a rock.

But it distracts him. Then I use my two fingers and poke him right in the eyes. He howls and blindly swings. His blow hits my jaw and I swear I feel it crack. Just how strong was he! I grope blindly as I fall due to his blow. My hand warps around the strap of my bag and I swing it right in his face as he recovers.

It doesn't even faze him. He keeps coming.

He garbs my wrist and yanks. I cry out and find myself on my feet. Again, I use my bag, but this time I ensnare his hand in the strap and buck up my knee a second time, it catches him in the stomach. He doubles over just long enough for me to release myself and, with his hand still caught in my bag strap; I make a circle around him and yank with all my might.

He howls. His arm, bent strangely all the way around the back of his head gives a snap.

"Oh, fuck!" he yells in anger.

I hurriedly get my bag released and with a final swing of it to his face, I bring him to his knees.

But still, with his snapped arm and half-blind eye, he looks just slightly fazed. When he looks up at me, there's nothing in his eyes. The small amount of restraint that he showed earlier is gone now. For whatever reason he was holding back, he doesn't look like he'd hold back now.

But I don't wait long enough to find out. I just run, taking advantage of his momentary defeat. I run till I'm outside in the windy, rainy parking lot. It's almost deserted, not a single one of my friend in sight. But I don't care. I run at top speed, wanting to be in the street, with people and witnesses. My whole clothes are soaked through when I finally slow down, nearing the town square. I almost hope that Blaine might be out walking on his hill, maybe, he'll recognize me running; maybe at least, he'll come to save me.

But then I hear scuffle of boots following me. Thinking that it's still Dave, I almost cry out and use my bag to swing again.

It catches Jake in the shoulder and he blurts, "OUCH! JEEZ, KURT!"

Puck and Finn are coming around the street too. They look, I think, stunned as they catch sight of me. Finn runs and throws himself at me, grabbing me in a bone-crushing hug. But I'm too relived to care. I hug him back, burying my face in his strong, safe shoulder.

The horror of the situation settles in as adrenaline leaves my body. I start sobbing without control. But Finn keeps holding me and starts to walk me, keeping his hand around my shoulders. I hear him throw some really bad curses at Puck and Jake, who are silently following us. We walk to the Tavern, but before going inside, Finn helps me clean up my face and straighten up my clothes.

He examines my still-hurting jaw and winces when I moan at his touch. "It's turning blue. Everyone's gonna notice that."

"It's OK," I tell him hoarsely. "I'm OK. It's just—it was just bad luck. I'll try to be more careful the next time, I swear."

Puck looks crestfallen at my statement and he opens his mouth to say something but Finn tells him off sharply and angrily. "That's enough for now. Let's get inside and out of this rain. You should get warmed up, Kurt, before you catch cold or anything. We'll talk about this after the party, OK?"

We agree and enter the Tavern to the warm sounds of festivities.

Blaine spends his day doing all the things his father does. Firstly he called some of Puckpeople to help him with the deliveries. There were three main hotels and stores that needed daily supplies. Old Riley himself came to help when the Tavern's deliveries were to be sent.

Blaine liked the Old man. He was focused and determined to the task of providing good food to the people of the town. His work kept him young and active despite the fact that he looked fragile and wizened.

"I understand Anderson have been facing troubles?" he inquired Blaine as a few boys loaded food trolleys to walk down the hill.

Blaine simply nodded. "Yes, there have been low supplies by the town management."

Old Riley cursed colorfully. "Damn 'em to the deepest pits of hell! Them monsters thinking they can do whatever they like with us. Is it true you kill their lot?"

Blaine took a step back in shock. He had known that the old guy was observant and wiser than he looked. But he hadn't expected him to be so blunt.

"Well, only if they hurt any of us first."

Old Riley chuckled. "Well, good on you. I tell Noah that it's the only way with 'em. Kill 'em and be done with it. Rid the world of them. But that kid has got his head in the right place, he has. He thinks helping people is more important than playing monster killers."

Blaine laughed at this assessment. "Well, Puck can play people helper. Leave the monster killing to us."

Old Riley nodded in approval, a smile crinkling his wrinkled face. "Ye, know. Today, after 'em kids get off of the school, we have a party goin' on in the Tavern. Celebrations of rain. You should come down and have some fun, child."

Blaine smiled, humbled by the offer. "Well, thank you, Mr Puckerman. But I have to stay here and keep everything in check."

"Oh, right," Riley nods wisely. "Gotta keep cover in your father's absence. When'll he be back, son?"

"He never stays more than one night over. He'll be back tonight for sure."

"I'll let Noah, know. He'll ask McKay and Bosky to keep an eye out for that truck of yours."

By now the boys had emptied all the necessary things in VW parked at the base of the hill. Riley made another offer for Blaine to show up for festivities if he got a chance. Then he hailed him goodbye and went away.

Blaine stood at the door of the storehouse for a long time after that. He thought about Riley and his offer, and Riley's bold conviction about what exactly Blaine and his Warblers did. He decided to not think about the eccentricities of the old man.

He checked the wrist watch and realized that Cooper's school will be out in an hour. So he closed the store and went to the house. He roused Wes, because he was the most responsible of all the Warblers after Nick, entrusted the house to him and got ready to pick up Cooper.

He walked down the trail and got the motorbike out of the shed. He would've preferred taking the car—but as it were a bright yellow Ferrari—it would have attracted everyone's notice in the town. In fact, nobody even knew what else resided in the shed at the base of the hill apart from the tattered motorbike and the pick-up truck. Blaine wondered if Riley knew, and he laughed aloud because it seemed a possibility.

He got in front of the Hilltown Middle School and waited for the final bell to ring. The Middle School and the Kindergarten was conveniently placed across the distance of a parking lots and a main road from the McKinley High School.

He chose a spot that hid him from sight well, but he could see everything that happened in the High School lot. He nearly hoped that he'd run into a familiar people from Puck's group. Maybe even Kurt…? No, he didn't want to see that boy again. Not yet.

Blaine laid back on his motorcycle, and studied the parking lot from under the sunglasses he wore. His heavy parachute jacket kept him dried enough from the drizzling rainfall, but he didn't mind as his pants got soaked through. Rainfalls in Hilltown were a rare thing of beauty. Everyone wanted to get wet when it rained. Everyone wanted to enjoy it fully while it lasted.

He checked his watch again and only five minutes were left till the schools let off.

But then he spotted a group of people in the McKinley's parking lot. Another look confirmed it to be Puck and his gang of farmers. But Blaine did not see Kurt. Maybe, he didn't go to school today? But the group seemed to be arguing about something. Finn stood morosely to a side, just listening as Puck explained something with furious gestures. The group finally seem to settle down, looking as morose as Finn but did as Puck said. Everyone apart from Puck, Jake and Finn, went away from the parking lot and in the direction of the town square.

Blaine dismissed it, thinking that everyone was headed to the party Riley was talking about. But then, Finn, Puck and Jake talked about something more and went back inside the High School. For a few moments, Blaine wanted to go after them and ask about all the confusion. But then he said to himself, "Yeah, whatever. Puck's doing his business being in charge all the time. Let them be."

The bell rang, and people started to leave in their cars, some walked home. Blaine straightened up and looked at the Middle School building, as a hoard of middle schoolers seem to pile up in school busses or getting picked up by parents. Cooper emerged and looked around till he spotted Blaine on his motorbike. His face spilt into a splendid smile, making Blaine smile also.

Cooper ran to him and jumped up behind Blaine. "Hey, Blaine!"

"Hey, Coop. How was your day?"

"Awesome. I got A+ in my math test!"

"That's great, bro."

But Blaine didn't leave at once. He was still looking at the people leaving from McKinley's lot. He didn't see Puck, Finn or Jake, which meant they were still inside the school building. And slowly the amount of teenagers lessened in the parking lot, meaning that the building was almost empty by now except for a few teachers and janitors.

"What's up, Blaine?" asked Cooper.

"I'm just checking something. Wait here."

And Blaine got off the bike, leaving Cooper still on it. He made his way out of the Middle School lot and across the main road. He was just in the other parking lot when he spotted movement in the McKinley's main door. He ducked behind a public bin and watched.

It was Kurt. He was running as if hounds of hell were after him.

Blaine's heart stopped for moment as he watched the beautiful boy running so earnestly. Kurt didn't notice him even as he flew past the bin Blaine was hiding behind. But Blaine's trained eyes noticed how Kurt's fashionable jacket was askew, buttons popped. He noticed how flushed his face was. He noticed how Kurt's pupils were blown due to fright.

He decided to stop the boy and ask what was wrong. But Kurt, too fast and still running, took to the sidewalks and toward the square.

If Blaine hadn't seen Kurt's frightened expression, he would've almost believed that Kurt was late from the party and running towards it. As it were, he knew something was terribly wrong. As he walked back to Cooper and his motorbike, Finn, Jake and Puck ran out of the school building, looking out of their wits and worried.

They spotted Kurt, far away, and still running, and dashed after him.

"Who was that, Blaine?" asked Cooper, his eyes wide in worry. "Was that one of your friends? He looked terrified!"

"Yes, Coop. He was one of my friends. You don't mind if we check on him, do you?"

"Of course, not!"

Blaine jumped on his bike, revved the motor and tore after the running boys. He kept his distance and stopped altogether when the boys followed Kurt to the town square. Blaine parked the bike behind another parked car and looked on as Kurt was approached by his friends.

Even in his terrified state, Kurt responded. It almost made Blaine smile. But Kurt looked near the edge of breakdown. And then Finn was holding him and Kurt was crying, if Blaine cold judge anything by the way Kurt's shoulders shook. Puck and Jake looked almost guilty for some reason. But Finn, calming Kurt down and slowly walking him toward the Tavern, looked beyond angry. Blaine almost thought the Finn might run back to school and punish whoever did that to Kurt.

With that, Blaine realized that it must be one of the Smyths. Most probably Karofsky. Thinking back, he hadn't seen Karofsky leave school grounds either. Red, hot rage smothered Blaine. Karofsky. He had hurt Kurt. And it was the violation of the town's rule.

One of THEM can't hurt one of the sworn members without repercussions.

As Blaine started up his bike again, driving the nervous looking Cooper back to the house, he knew one thing. Kurt had a bruise on his face, his jaw. Karofsky had breached the town rules. It was the time that the Warblers stepped in. Karofsky had to die, as Old Riley said, rid the town of the monsters. And as Warblers, it was their job.


	5. Chapter 5: Retaliation

**~ CHAPTER 5 ~**

**Retaliation**

Blaine climbed up the in a frenzy of anger and purpose. Cooper, looking shy of his brother's leader mode, followed quietly.

"WES! WES, COME DOWN HERE!" Blaine boomed at the roof.

Wes, who had stationed himself on surveillance in Blaine's absence, thundered down the staircase to meet them as they entered the house.

"It's Kurt, isn't it? I saw him running. What happened?"

Shortly and angrily, Blaine shared his observations. He added ruthlessly, "THAT'S IT, WES! They cut off Dad's supplies; they invalidate our contract and now this! He could be our hope, Wes! He's the only one with Eliza—" Blaine stopped short, noticing that Cooper was still here.

He sat on his knees, facing Cooper. "Go on up, Coop. Do you homework and rest. We'll wake you up when Dad comes tonight. We'll have a movie marathon, huh? The Iron Man series, what d'you say?"

Cooper, who was intelligent for his age, nodded in understanding. He knew that Blaine wanted to discuss with Wes the gory details of their plans. So he went upstairs and locked himself in his room, hoping that Blaine's friends was OK, that Blaine would decide something wisely. But most importantly, he hoped that Dad would come back soon so he could make this tension go away.

"Good call, Blaine," said Wes downstairs in mocking tone. "Lose your cool in front of your baby brother. Just awesome."

Blaine sat down with a sigh, clutching his head between his hands. "I Know, Wes. I'm just. Kurt looked really freaked. Terrified. And I know you'll say I'm assuming things but only their kind can have such a reaction upon anyone. It must've been one of them that hurt Kurt. And I feel useless by not doing something about it."

Wes understood the pressure Blaine was under as their Leader. He had to make all sort difficult choices, and rightly so. Otherwise there could be consequences they wouldn't be able to deal with. Not in this side of the world.

"Hey, tell you what? Why don't you call Puck or Finn? Ask them how's Kurt doing? Maybe then you'll be able to assess the situation better."

Blaine nodded in relief. Yes, asking about it wouldn't hurt. But then he had a better idea. "Actually, I'm kinda invited by Riley. I can simply go down and see for myself how he's holding up."

"Great! Go get freshen up. I'll wake up the boys; they've had much sleep as it is."

Blaine got up to leave. Then he smiled at Wes as he walked up the stairs. "You know, Wes. I'm glad we have you. Someone with brains, you know."

Wes chuckled good-naturedly. "Yeah, what would you boys do without me? Now go on! Get dressed! You have a party to attend to."

They notice. All of them. They notice that I'm bruised and out of my wits. But they don't say anything. They just welcome me with smiles and congratulations on rain and my hard work on the fields.

I had previously thought that only the people known to me were invited, but this was actually a "Farmer-Party." All the people who I've experienced working with this last month, Johnsons, Joneses, Evans—Everyone!—was in attendance, looking sharp and good in their slightly rain-wet but nice clothes.

They all welcome us and then we divide up in different groups and sit on tables that are attached together to make more seating room. On my table, my friends, Marley and her Mom, Mercedes' family, Tina's father and Mike's family and Sam's little sister and brother sat also. Old Riley, who is a proud host indeed, is on his feet. He runs here and there, going to different tables, talking, laughing and asking after health of everyone.

My friends, some of them, when the elders are unaware, ask me about my injuries in low voices. I just shake my head and tell them "I'm fine, guys," over and over again. Till they seem a bit satisfied. But Sam, Mike and Mercedes—bless them—look at me suspiciously and worriedly. They are the ones who almost threaten me for full explanation later. I knew that there would be 'a full explanation affair' later. Everyone would want to know how I did. I just hope that they don't pity my poor fighting and close escape.

Puck, surprisingly, is the only one who looks subdued. This strikes me as ominous. Because as the leader of us teen farmers, he should be the one actually dancing for this rain-celebration. But he smiles tightly at everyone who makes conversation with him, looking uneasy and under stress.

A few moments like this, and I start to relax around the warmth of the Tavern. Not just the warmth of food-fumed air, but also the warmth with which these people treat me. I find myself smiling every time Mercedes tells me a funny story about 'that old dude or his son' or about 'last time we had rain'.

I only half pay attention to her. I only show interest when she tells me that the last rain was some fourteen months ago. Yes, I feel a bit relaxed, but the confrontation Karofsky still frightens me. I feel nauseate just thinking about it. Was it really my shattered state of mind, or did Karofsky actually looked—I didn't have any other words for it—NOT human? Were his eyes really all black or was that just my panic-triggered hallucination? And if it WAS me and my mind, was that the reason why I was under protection/observation of my friends at all time? Were they actually protection me because I was unstable?

Looking around at their smiling faces, I shake my head in denial. No, no, no! They liked me. They were protecting me because for whatever reason the Smyths hated me. They would tell me if it was ME with a problem, no?

It all goes fine until Burt and Carole, smiling and slightly wet, enter the Tavern to loud shouts of greetings. Carole gives a bunch of flowers, right from our front yard, to Rosa and meet every other lady in the joint. Burt hugs and shoulder slaps a lot of men and finally, after a few inquires from Riley, makes his way to our table. Carole disappears with Rosa in the kitchen area—I suspect she'll watch over the menu and how things were. I swear sometimes I think Carole is born to feed everyone with her brilliant cooking!

But then Burt spots me. His bright smile vanishes as he notices my bruised jaw. He, visibly, grits his teeth and throws a dirty glance in Puck's direction. Puck, who had been watching Burt closely, looks more uneasy if possible as he ducks his head, his face red with a flush of embarrassment.

OK, what is going on here?

Burt comes over to me and asks, "You OK, kiddo?"

"Yeah," I breathe as happily as I can. I think someone have told him about my incident already—Finn maybe. "Just a bit of scratches. Nothing serious."

"How was it? Did it hurt?" Burt asks, sounding slightly curious.

"Oh, it was OK. Nothing bad, really. I just, I guess I'm better than I thought!" I totally lie to make him happy. But he doesn't look like he buys my story. Although, he just nods, pats my shoulder tenderly and looses himself in festivities.

Rosa and Carole come out of kitchen, Marley, Tina (who has a noticeable baby bump now) and a few busboys come out with the first course of lunch, announcing it happily and everybody settles down on their tables with good cheer—and so it begins.

But at that moment, the Tavern's door opens once more and somebody comes in. It takes me moment to recognize who it is. But Riley confirms my guess by getting up and greeting the guest with a cheery, "Blaine! I'm glad you made it, son. Come on, we just started!"

Blaine looks stunning. His customary casual wear is gone, replaced with smart looking pond-green polo shirt, a light, black sleeveless jerkin on top of it, with a black and white bowtie. His hair are tamed with a lot of hair gel and elegantly combed, making him look so dapper that I sear a few teenage girls swoon at the sight of him.

And then there's his smile. Can he possibly smile bigger? He accepts Riley's greeting in kind, makes his way to our table as Joe moves to accommodate him on the stools, and greets everyone around, with the same big smile plastered on his face.

His gaze falls on me the last. His eyes flicker when he notices my bruised face, but his smile remains. Very casually and politely, he asks me about how I was doing, was I adjusting fine here, and how was my field work going?

With each inquiry, my face turns redder. I answer him as politely and composedly as I can. But with his smile and his face—he is so distracting. And so goddarn beautiful!

He only nods in answer, helping himself to some food. Then he starts a conversation with Joe and Rory, who are his neighbors. He also asks Burt after his health. My Uncle answers him politely enough, but he eyes Blaine with suspicions and unease. Even after Puck's alliance with the Warblers, Burt is still unsure about allying himself with Andersons.

But it wasn't just Burt. I spot a few more people around the Tavern but, who had greeted Blaine openly enough, are now looking at him with apprehension too.

I kind of expected this too. Not everyone was sure what the Warblers did or represented in this town. They weren't farmers, they weren't traders. Their father/caretaker owned the grocery store but that was all. What the Warblers did was still a mystery. Even to us, the Puckpeople, they were mysterious. But we trusted them. The other people didn't. Hence the uneasy glances.

But Blaine takes it all in stride, ignoring those who are impolite, and attending those who talk with him openly. A few girls even try to make moves on him, and I watch in curiosity who will win his attention the most. Marley, Becky and even Rachel Berry, who was here as Finn's date, tries to talk to him. But Blaine keeps his smile face on and talks with equal attention to all.

As we finish this first course, Rosa and her cooks serve us the grand meal of roast cow, yes, a whole cow! But we, being so numerous, eat it up. I, of course, restrain myself from eating too much. Blaine I notice, eats a limited amount of food as well. But he eats everything, even if a small portion. Then we eat the sweet dishes. Then the wine starts flowing and everybody starts getting drunk! The teenagers prefer cans of beer, but everyone is so into the revelry that nobody minds how many we drink or if we are even legal.

I start to appreciate how cool the Rain Celebration is in this town are.

Time flies. From 3 in after noon, the clock suddenly strikes 7 in the evening. A few of people, who are too drunk to sit up, are escorted to their houses by the teenagers who have drunk a little and are able-bodied enough to drive.

Burt, only partially drunk, corners Riley and a few others and start a robust discussion against Hilltown and Smyths and every foul rule ever made, taxes, low supplies etc. Ladies huddle up on one table, commenting on Rosa's fine celebratory luncheon and think if they still had room left for dinner. Tina is in Mike's arm, they both look giddy and peaceful, staring in each other's eyes. Blaine sits beside a respectable looking man, who I remember is called Hiram Berry, Rachel's father. They seem to be talking earnestly about something, unaware of everyone else around them.

I haven't had much to drink, just a few sips of bad-tasting beer. But I was kind of sleepy now. So I fix my gaze on Blaine, setting my chin on my arms on the table, watching him and just—well, watching him.

A stool scrapes beside me and I look up as Puck sits by me. He is drunk but he looks serious too.

"Hey, buddy. How you holdin' up?"

"I'm OK, I guess. You know, you are drunk."

He laughs shortly, sitting the same as me, chin on arms on table. "Yep. I—today's a bad day for me."

"Bad day?"

"Yeah. Everything's wrong."

"Wrong?"

He looks over at me, still serious for someone who is drunk. "I'm talking about you. It's my fault."

"What's your fault?" Gosh, maybe I am a bit tipsy. Why else would I repeat everything?

In answer, he lightly touches my jaw with his pinky and my bruise stings slightly. "This. My fault."

My muddled brain catches up to his words and his serious expression. "No, Puck. No. It's not your fault. I'm kind of a disappointment. I should have fought better!"

"Why do you think none of us were there, huh?!" he asks me heatedly, pounding the table with his fist, attracting attention of a few people, including Blaine. "I knew he was on to you. But I kept everyone away. I wanted him to attack you, Kurt. Don't you see? It was a test."

It all makes sense now, kind of. I was waiting for my friends to show up but they didn't because— "A Test? So…Karofsky knew about the test?"

"Now, you fag! I mean this was a test by me! Of course, Karofsky didn't know!"

I squeak in alarm at his words, looking around. Nobody has heard him this time. But Blaine was observing us. "Puck, please..."

He glares at me a while. Then realizes what he had said. "Oh, I'm sorry, Kurt. My bad. I didn't mean to say that! It was offensive, I'm sorry!"

"It's all right," I say hurriedly. "How did you know?" I know I should've been more concerned. But at this point, a bit tipsy and worried out of my mind, I didn't care.

"That first day when you backed away from me so suddenly," Puck says with a smirk. "I knew you were strange. But 'gay' I didn't realize until later."

"Later when?"

"When we allied with Blaine. And even now, a few moments ago, you were looking at him like—like hell, I look at Zizes!"

I snort. I swear my face is red again. "I didn't know I was so obvious. And seriously, Zizes?"

Puck sobers up a while. "Yes, her. She wasn't always, you know, one of them. She used to be my girl a few years ago."

Something about his statement catches my attention. "One of them, like…it's a cult or something?"

He laughs at that. "No. That's not what I mean."

Then I decide to share my fears with him. We are drunk; we already have done my sexuality talk. One more thing won't hurt, right? Heck, I don't even know if we'll remember about this in the morning.

"Puck, there's something I need to know about Karofsky." He nods, waiting. "I thought—I saw his eyes change—they were BLACK, Puck. Do you know if?—Do you think?—Am I mad?"

He leans close to me and whispers. "No you ain't mad. If that meant you were mad, we all would be mad then! Karofsky was pissed—I'm guessing you gave him a fight he wasn't expecting, in which case, Good!—and when one of them is pissed…" He lets the sentence hang in the air between us.

I don't dare ask him more. I look back at Blaine and he still seems to be studying us. Hiram was still talking to him, but his eyes remain fixed on us.

So Blaine hadn't meant it jokingly. There were worst things here than I had imagined.

"So…" I ask Puck now, "Does that mean I won? The test."

"Tell me all about it," Puck asks enthusiastically. "I saw most of what you did but…HOW you did it? I wanna know."

I tell him about how I reacted, how I fought, what I felt. He whistles when I tell him about how I poked him in the eyes.

"Kurt, you are amazing, you know that!" Puck cheers. "That was better than I could've hoped!"

"But I didn't even intimidate him!"

"It wasn't about intimidating him, Kurt. It was about standing up. About surviving. And you, my boy, survived a fight with Dave-fucking-Karofsky! You rock, man!"

I smile at this. But then my smile fades. "But you don't hate me? Because I'm gay?"

Puck looks at me for a while, studying my face. Then, "No. 'Hate you' is the last thing on my mind. I won't tell anyone, though. That's your choice. But, no, I don't hate you for who you are Kurt. You are brave, you are one of my pips now. And I like you."

He stands up then, unsteady on his feet. Blaine appears out of nowhere and helps him out of chair. "Come on, Puck. I've got you. Let me walk you to your room."

"His room?" I blurt out in confusion.

Puck and Blaine both chuckle at that.

"I live upstairs, Kurt. The Tavern is kinda my home. My family owns the apartment upstairs. I can show you if you want."

"No, I'm fine. I just, I want to relax a while, you know. Go on ahead."

Blaine helps Puck upstairs and I settle down with my chin on my arms again. I study my family and friends as I wait for the festivities to officially come to a close.

Finn sits near Rachel Berry, who is talking rapidly, he just looks at her with a dopey smile on his face. Burt and Riley are the only ones left of their government-hating group. Everyone else had at some point started to leave. Carole sits with Rosa still, talking in low voice. Marley sleeps with her head on Rosa's lap. Mike takes Tina in his arms and after saying small goodbyes to everyone, he leaves. Sam had left with his sleepy siblings half an hour ago. Joe, Ryder and Rory were one of those who had returned the drunkards to their families safely. They come back now, and join Rosa on her table, talking between themselves.

Nobody notices me. Maybe they think I've fallen asleep. And maybe, at some point I did.

Because when I wake up again, I find myself in my bed, with my blanket thrown over me carefully. I half believe that the events with Karofsky were a part of a nightmare. But my aching head conflicts that theory. I'm hung over, which means that the party, the incident before it, and the heart-to-heart with Puck after it—every part of it was true and had actually happened.

I check my clock and it's 11 on dot. I groan and fall back asleep, mentally making a remainder to never drink again, not even a few sips.

Puck leaned heavily on Blaine as he fought down the drossiness. He knew that Blaine was 'helping' him for a reason. Namely, to talk about something. But he was on verge of unconsciousness and he didn't know if he could possibly open his eyes, let alone his mouth.

Blaine made sure that Jake was out of the hearing range before he muttered in Puck's ear. "We gotta talk."

Puck gave out a grunt in affirmative. With momentous concentration, Puck told Jake to leave him be. Jake, knowing that Blaine wanted to talk as well, did not protest and left them alone.

Puck sat on the edge of his bed, clutching the mattress to hold himself upright. "Talk. Fast," he slurred.

"I need to know what happened to Kurt," Blaine cut to the chase. "I was there when he ran out of the school. I saw how terrified he was. I need to know everything."

"You were there?" Puck blinked fast, trying to focus on Blaine's face.

"I was—" Blaine hesitated.

It was an unannounced thing between the Warblers that Cooper's identity must remain secret. Only a few people knew that Andy had two sons. Cooper was just known as Cooper Johnson in school record and everywhere else. Blaine didn't know if he could trust Puck enough to let him know of his brother. But then he relented, thinking that he might as well.

"I was picking up my brother from middle school," he said finally.

Puck looked a bit surprised, his eyes opened just a fraction more. But he didn't ask more questions. "Well, it was Karofsky," he told Blaine. "But it was also me."

Blaine frowned. "Kurt was running away from you guys? His own friends…?"

With broken words, Puck related to Blaine what he had told Kurt. The plan, the test, everything. Blaine looked furious for a while. But as he listened to Kurt's reaction, his face morphed into a proud and impressed smirk.

"So it wasn't entirely Karofsky's fault?" Blaine asked again, just to be sure. "It wasn't exactly the instance that Kurt was in real danger."

"Exzatly!" Puck exclaimed, slurring awfully. "We vas there the n'tire time. V coulda 'elped 'im. He don't need us anyvase. Hw was 'mazing!"

Blaine nodded in relief. "Well, don't pull shit like that again. Kurt needs more training."

"We gave him trainin'. All v coulda afforded. He learns fast."

"But apparently your trainin' is not enough. He's still scared."

Puck gulped, closing his eyes. He was loosing his focus and loosing badly. Damn his guilt-drinking. He of all people should remain in his senses at times like these.

"Tell ya Vat? You help train 'im, eh? You act all macho and ninja, you train him then."

Blaine frowned. It was a nice idea. He could help Kurt train and become more sure of himself against the enemies. But amidst all that he already has to do and take care of, it was too much. Besides, training would also mean that Blaine would have to tell Kurt about many Warbler related secrets. He wasn't sure if he could do that. Warblers guarded their secret life upon the hill with obsession that matched their rigorous talents and skills.

But Blaine could help Kurt. Yes, maybe once a week. He nodded in confirmation. "Ok. I will train him. But you are drunk. We'll discuss it later."

Puck huffed in relief. But before passing out, he muttered, "Tell Burt, ya hear me? It's his dess'sion in the end."

Blaine pulled the blanket on top of slumped Puck. He wasn't really emotional or caring type, but just a reflex that he had developed after taking care of his brother and Warblers.

He went downstairs to a quieter party. The boys, Joe, Ryder and Rory, were back now and sitting with Rosa and fighting off sleep. Burt was sitting alone with Old Riley and then Blaine looked at the slumped over form all alone.

Kurt, with his face on his arms, slept soundly. His bruised side of jaw jutting awkwardly, painfully away from any contact with wooden table or his own body.

Blaine half smiled and made his way toward the sleeping boy. He wondered how much Kurt was actually hurting and how much strength it required to put on a brave face and pretend everything was all right. Yes, Blaine thought, he will help Kurt train. He will turn Kurt into a person so strong that none of those bastards will even consider touching him like that again.

Blaine touched Kurt's shoulder tenderly. "Hey, Kurt. Can I talk to you a moment?"

But Kurt didn't even move. Blaine sat down beside him and tried to shake him awake once more. Kurt simply pouted in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent and turned his face away. Then he hissed loudly when his bruised jaw came in contact with the table, turning his face promptly back into the same awkward position.

It was all too cute; Blaine had to fight against the laughter that was building in his stomach. It was a kind of thing Cooper did sometimes, and Blaine was always left in fit of laughter and happy-tears.

"Mind if I help you?" a voice said to his right. Blaine turned to see a very grumpy and sleepy looking Burt.

Blaine smiled brightly. "Looks like you are gonna need my help, Mr Hummel"

"Burt," Burt grunted. "Well, then. I'm gonna get my wife. You think you could…help this one?"

Blaine nodded readily. He looked around for Finn and did not spot him. Burt noticed his frown and said, "He left with the Berry girl a few moments ago." Burt half smiled and winked pointedly.

Blaine smiled again. "OK, then. You have the keys to your jeep?"

Burt shook his head. "Nah, Finn took the jeep. Looks like you are helping us home on foot. Think you can handle it?"

"Of course," said Blaine. Well, his lucky stars were on the move. This would be the perfect opportunity to talk with Burt about their alliance and maybe about Kurt's further training.

He went out of his way to make Kurt comfortable as he picked him up in his arms, bridal style. He made sure that Kurt's bruised jaw was away from any contact and then secured Kurt against his own body protectively.

Blaine had to admit, for his slender built, Kurt sure was a bit heavy. Or maybe it was the recent training and development of his body. Blaine could feel the new bumps in Kurt's arms and tightness in his muscles that weren't there before. He remembered it only too vividly, the last time he had held Kurt this close. When Kurt had fainted due to some inexplicable reason on their walk home. Kurt's body sure hadn't felt that masculine back then, but soft and tender.

Blaine blushed when he realized how much he was thinking about the way Kurt's body was changed. He bit his lips, concentrating on the other things, like Burt and 'the talk'.

Blaine hurried outside with Kurt and waited while Burt went to get Carole. The air was chilly after the rain. There still dropped a few scattered drops of rain here and there. As was usual with him, he scanned the immediate area for any telltale signs of movement or danger. There was none. Only darkness and silence, the customary night scene of Hilltown at 8 o' clock in the night.

When Burt and Carole, leaning against each other and tipsy, came outside, Blaine took the lead and they walked on ahead. Burt shed his cap for a while, running his hand all over his bald head and face, trying to get his bearings. Carole too became a bit attentive as they silently started their journey.

Nobody said anything for a while. Blaine was thinking hard about how to start up the topic of Kurt's training but he always got distracted when Kurt, due to the cold night breeze and small drops of rain, snuggled closer into Blaine's neck. Blaine tried hard to ignore the warm breath against his neck, or the shivers that caused in his body, or the soft touch of lips that belonged to Kurt. Well, he tried. But no use. More than anything he wanted to lean into Kurt's touch, inhale Kurt's hair deeply and never let go.

Get a GRIP, Blaine! Blaine chastised himself forcefully. His uncle and aunt are right behind you, for god sake!

Burt chose that moment to come and walk side by side with him, Carole tucked close under his arms as she sleepily walked.

"How's he holding up?" he asked Blaine.

"He's still hurting," answered Blaine plainly. "He's trying not to be loud but he's hissing every time the bruise hurts."

Burt sighed sadly. "Knew I shouldn't have allowed Puck to have his own way," he muttered. "But I haven't talked to Puck yet. I don't know if it was a wise decision or not."

Blaine smiled softly. So, Burt was bringing it up because he had a motive too. Well, all the more better.

"I did," he said trying to sound positive. "He said that Kurt was magnificent. He reacted fast and accurately. But still, against their kind it wasn't—up to par, you know."

Burt nodded. "I figured. He looked so scared when I came in the Tavern today. I was relived just to see him alive and present but then I noticed his bruise."

"Could've been worse," said Blaine. "But I'm glad it isn't."

Blaine cussed himself internally. He had no idea what prompted him to admit that in front of Blaine. Burt didn't say anything, though. He just observed Blaine silently.

"Look, child, I—I know that you have, well, a different sort of way of life than most folks around here," Burt began awkwardly. "But I also know you have sacrificed just as much as anyone in this town. So I just wanted to say that I have no objection to an alliance, if you still want it."

Blaine looked at Burt in surprise, happy but doubtful.

"Look," Burt explained further, "I've seen and heard about what you and your boys have been doing for my—nephew," Blaine frowned at this hesitation. "I appreciate it a lot. And Puck seems to trust you. Riley thinks you guys are on the right track, whatever that means. So I guess, I should give a chance to you as well."

"Thank you, Mr Hummel."

"It's Burt from now on, Kid."

They shared a smile and continued on.

Blaine was now thinking about Burt's hesitation. He knew about the affair regarding Paul and Lily and Elizabeth's death as anyone else in the entire town. But as a Warbler, he also knew things that most people didn't; secrets and things that happened under covers of night.

"Burt, can I ask you something?" Blaine decided he might as well come clean if they were to ally soon.

"Yes?"

"You haven't told Kurt about anything, have you? I mean about the—truth?"

Burt frowned at Blaine. "I don't follow you?"

"Burt, we know about things that most people won't. We know about Paul and Lily. But we know about Elizabeth too. The whole story."

Burt looked as if he'd slap Blaine. His face reddened in rage and hurt. They had stopped walking now. Carole watched on sleepily and silently, appearing rather concerned.

"How DARE you…"

"I'm not threatening or blackmailing, Mr Hummel," Blaine said hastily. "I just think that Kurt should know about everything. And soon. It's for the best."

Burt looked pained at that. "You think I don't wanna tell him! You think I enjoy living a lie!"

"So you will tell him?"

Burt looked away and took Carole's hand that she silently offered. "Yes, I will. Not now though. He isn't readily yet." Burt sighed heavily, running his hand over his face again. "Besides, I just got him back. What if he ran away like Paul?"

Blaine didn't know what made him say that but he said with conviction. "He won't."

Burt just nodded. "Well, good, then."

They walked on.

"I can help with the training, if you want," Blaine offered offhandedly as they neared the Hummel house.

"I'd like that. From what I've heard you are the best one of the whole Warblers, so yes, I'd like that."

They were at the house now. Blaine looked over at the house roof opposite the street and nodded to Thad and Hunter on duty. Burt followed his gaze and exchanged silent greetings too.

Blaine wanted to hand over Kurt right then but Burt opened the house door and motioned him to come in. The warm house was welcoming after getting half-drenched outside.

"His bedroom's second door on the right," Burt said, signaling upstairs.

Blaine tried to control the torrent of thoughts that followed this offer. He was going to Kurt's bedroom. He was going to Kurt's bedroom to tuck Kurt in. He was… He shook his head and hurried with the whole process. He opened the bedroom door, made a beeline for bed, settled Kurt on top of the sheets. And wanted to get out of there.

But Kurt tightened his hold on Blaine's shoulders, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "No" and "Blaine". He twisted out of Kurt's arms and then grabbed the blankets and tucked him in, trying not to think about the small smile Kurt had on his face when warmth enveloped him again.

But even as he tried leaving, he was distracted by the room itself. Kurt's books, his music, his clothes, and his dressing table with loads of products. He took it all in, smiling as he recognized a very familiar Kurt-scent in the room. He decided this was the most beautiful room he's ever been in. Then he felt foolish for such a thought.

He went to the window and observed Thad and Hunter on duty once more. Then he left, closing the door silently, watching Kurt's laying form one last time.

Burt waited for the kid to come downstairs. He was conflicted about many things.

How did the kid know about Elizabeth's death? He couldn't have been very old back then? How did he know about it when most of the town's people didn't? And most importantly, how much of the death and its causes was the kid aware of?

He had know about mysterious Warblers and their mysterious way of dealings with the Smyths and their cohorts. He had known that the Warblers knew of things that the normal people wouldn't dare whisper in the dead of night. He had known that the Warblers had a reach in secrets and things that run the town itself (one of the reason why Jack Anderson was even allowed to run a grocery store at all.)

But he hadn't known that Warblers knew THAT much. His whole view point of them changed with the realization that—yes, the Warblers are strong, and yes, Burt needed to ally with them. Especially now that Kurt was involved.

Kurt. Burt closed his eyes against the pain and longing as he thought of him. Brave, sweet, kind, Kurt. How terrified he must have been today! How scared! And yet, he had survived when most people will take to their knees and beg for the death to come.

It didn't even matter that Kurt was sweet and considerate. It didn't matter to Burt if he was gay or in love with dinosaurs. It didn't even matter that Kurt reminded him so much of his mother… no none of it mattered if Kurt wasn't protected and wasn't ready for when the things went to hell in the town. If what Riley and Sue had planned was to happen soon, Kurt was in more danger than anything before.

Burt's thoughts shattered when he heard Blaine's soft footsteps coming downstairs.

He looked at the Anderson kid thoughtfully. Blaine wasn't as he had excepted him to be. He had seen this kid around town a few times before, but not so close. Then that night when Kurt came back to town, he had seen Blaine up close for the first time. And he had been confused and shocked.

This was the kid that folks talked trash about? This was the kid who made some people wrinkle their nose in disgust? This was the notorious leader of the infamous Warblers?

But Burt had only seen a teenager with a bigger purpose in life. A teenager who was doing everything he could to help his friends and family. Burt had only seen a young man with bright eyes and such a true smile that he wondered what to believe or not to believe anymore.

And tonight's encounter was no exception. Burt had been shocked yet again.

Blaine, with his easy mannerism, his charms, and his true smile, was a man in true sense of word. He was a man protecting his family, his friends and his town with no reserve for his own life. So what if his methods were suspicious? So what if he was a cause of discord in various farming families? He was, at least, doing something to change this town rather than just sit about and grumble. And for that alone, Burt now held him in respect.

"He's OK," Blaine announced unnecessarily. "I'll try to come down at fields this weekend and then train him as much as he needs."

"OK, kid. But we have another meeting tonight."

Blaine frowned, looking amused.

"What you think if we're drunk we can't have another meeting?" Burt snorted. "Well, as I was saying, we are gonna be discussing about Kurt's adventures today. You are welcome to come with your father. We'll make the alliance official as well."

Blaine smiled again. "Thank, you, Burt. We'll be here. Dad is out of town still, but I'm sure he'll be back in time for the meeting."

Burt frowned in concern. "Isn't it a bit long for him to be out of town?"

"He never stays more than two days. He'll be back, don't worry."

"Well, all right, then. Good bye, Blaine. I'll see you at the meeting."

Burt saw Blaine out the door. Before he went away, Blaine said, "If Dad's too tried to attend, then maybe, I'll come on alone. If you don't have any objections."

"No, it's fine. Any of you'll do."

Blaine dipped his head against the cold air and rain drops, shoved his hands in his pocket, and walked away in the dark street with brisk pace and a happy gate. Burt found himself smiling at the boy. Because no matter what anyone said, that's who Blaine was in his eyes. Just a boy.

Blaine received a text even as he climbed up the hillside. He frowned, thinking of all things that could possibly have gone wrong if one of his Warblers were contacting him. He thought of this every time he got a new text. Unlike other teenagers, he wasn't a receiver of jokes or cheep poetry texts. No, his texts meant life or death in literal sense.

But it was only his father. He smiled with a relived "Phew!"

From Dad:

I think I'm gonna be late, again. Make sure Coop stays unaware of it. He'll worry over nothing. Dad.

Blaine frowned. It wasn't like Dad to be late. Maybe he ran in with a few problems with the deliverers. Last minute delays by the company? Whatever.

He stopped short suddenly. He'd heard a sound. He scanned the area and then looked up at the tree under which he found himself. Where the other trees were slightly moving due to cool breeze, this one was trembling horribly—as if somebody or something had just jumped off one of its branch in a hurry.

Blaine gritted his teeth in anger. He knew (as was expected) that there were always eyes following them all. But he never expected it this close to the hill and Dalton House. It worried him very much. He then remembered that he hadn't set the regular duties for the Warblers tonight. That must be why the others were getting so bold as to follow him all the way to Blaine's own territory.

He nodded a hello to David, who was on surveillance tonight and entered the house.

He only made it to the living room when Cooper and the others attacked him.

"MOVIE!" Cooper's voice was the loudest.

"Iron Man!" Jeff hooted, he had a sticker tattoo of Stark Tower on his cheek.

"Rosa's Cheese Rolls!" Trent held up bags of packed food, happily.

All Blaine's worries left him at once. He lost himself in various hugs and smiles as he joined in the movie marathon.

He deflected the questions about Andy easily with "He'll be here soon." And he announced the news of alliance with Hummels to the general cheers of his friends. He even related a bit about Kurt's "staged" attack and his smallish victory against "that thug" Karofsky. Cooper looked happy that the terrified boy was doing OK.

Then they paid attention to the movie alone. They cheered and whooped at appropriate times. Trent and Wes wolf-whistled when Scarlet Johanson made her appearance. Jeff made all the dirty jokes at appropriate times much to annoyance of Nick.

Blaine half worried about why they were all still here and not on their usual duties around the town. But he was consoled by the fact that at least David was keeping watch on the roof. But he didn't think too much on it.

Until, of course, when they started on Iron Man 2 and Dad still wasn't home. He checked his phone and found no new text from Dad. He tried to look unworried and explained to Jeff who was noticing Andy's absence again that it was all fine.

He sat for a few minutes with them then excused himself. "I think I should go upstairs with David now. He's keeping watch alone in the rain, it's not fair."

Cooper protested but Nick suddenly said, "Yeah, yeah, go away. You weren't even cheering with us you buzz kill."

Cooper giggled at the accusation and promptly went back to the movie. Trying not be a buzz kill and not getting thrown out in result. He loved this movie too much.

Blaine smiled at Nick in silent thank you and went upstairs.

"Anything?" he asked David.

David shook his head. "No, the town looks OK. I saw Sebastian and Santana headed toward the Crowley's Hardware a half an hour ago, though. Must be their usual visits, didn't look anything new."

Blaine frowned, "But it's still suspicious. We know well enough what Crowley deals in. Have they left, yet?"

"No, they are still inside the hardware store. Finn and Rachel Berry were making out in front of Hummel's house just a minuet ago." David winked mischievously.

Blaine chuckled. "That dog. Well, good for him. He must be braver than I thought if he can take stalking to that diva."

Blaine didn't mention about his talk with Hiram Berry earlier this evening. He was still not sure about it. Hiram's acquaintance had been sudden and startling, and his information kind of shocking. Blaine was waiting to discuss about it with his Dad before he could talk to his Warblers.

Blaine settled in front of one binocular and looked around town. He lingered over a Black BMW parked outside Crowley's a little longer, wondering why Smyth and Lopez were in there for so long. But he mostly kept watch on the distant check post, waiting for any telltale signs of headlights that will announce Andy's return.

Santana snuggled closer to Brittany as they kissed deeply. She was happy tonight. Because after many propositions and hints, Brittany had finally agreed to stop talking about that blonde boy Sam and agreed to start a relationship with Santana. Again. But that was Brittany. She would pine over some new boys for a while. Then she would come back to Santana again.

Not that Santana minded. She just knew that in the end Brittany would still belong to her forever.

But that still didn't made it certain that they'd be able to stay together. If there ever were a place or community more loath to Homosexuals, it was Hilltown. And if she knew anyone who hated Homosexuals with a vengeance, it was the mayor.

Santana snorted into the kiss at the hilarity and irony of it.

Brittany frowned. "What's so funny?"

"Edward." Santana was still laughing.

"I think he's grumpy."

"No, no. I mean about Edward's stupid homophobia." Santana slowed to giggles. "His own son is as gay as it can get. If only he knew!"

Brittany didn't understand what was funny about it at all. "Are you making fun of homo-sapiens, Santana? Because I thought that we were Lebanese. I thought you loved me."

Santana looked at Brittany adoringly, leaning in to kiss her deeply again. "I do. I love you Brittany. Very much."

Brittany smiled beautifully and kissed her back.

"But I don't like this," Santana said, becoming serious again. "I hate that we have to be Edward's slaves all the time. I hate that we have to be stuck in this shitty town. I hate that we can't be like this in public."

Brittany gasped in horror. She placed her hand on Santana's lips, shushing her. "Don't, Santana. He'll hear. He'll hurt us again."

Santana frowned. "I don't give a rat's ass about what he'll do! I hate it here!"

At that moment somebody came inside their room. Santana cursed loudly when she saw it was Sebastian.

"That's too bad, Santana," he said silkily. "After all we've given you and that's how you talk about us?"

"Not you," she past hatefully. "Your father and his ridiculous hatred!"

Sebastian only tilted his head, as if asking her to continue.

"What have these people done to him? What have anyone done to him? He's doing everything cruel in order to achieve his own stupid goals and we are being forced into doing things we don't want to do!"

Sebastian glared. There was just a hint of horror in his gaze. "I would be careful if I were you, Santana. I hate some of things my father does too. But that doesn't mean we have to yell around and parade the fact that—"

"Why are you even here? Are you spying on us?"

Sebastian sat down on their bed, looking thoughtful. "I'm here with a plan."

Santana stayed silent. She knew better than to disagree with Sebastian and his plans.

"I need to make sure that my father's plans with Kurt aren't carried out fully."

That surprised her greatly. So much that for the first time she was speechless.

"But—but Edward wants the Hummel killed."

"I know, Santana. I know. But you see, I think there's more to just that. I think my father and his 'selfish motives' are for a greater reason that what he has told us."

"I think you are only looking for some way to fuck Kurt," she said derisively.

Sebastian smirked. "If I get to do that along the way, yeah sure. Why not? But that's not all."

"You mean Kurt's special, like a dolphin?" Brittany chimed in with a smile.

Sebastian smirked. "Yes, like that. He's important in some way which has scared my father greatly. And I need to know what the reason is. I need to know if I can—bargain with my father with Kurt's talents or whatever it is that makes him special."

"And you are telling me this, why?"

"So that you can help me. We find out about Kurt. We barter our way out of this hell hole. I get to be with any boy I like. You and Brittany get a life together. Everyone's happy." Sebastian finished with a smirk.

Santana thought it over. It was too tempting. "But you left one thing out. What about Kurt? How are you gonna use him to bargain with Edward?"

"Simple. Kurt's life to forfeit ours."

"That's so mean," Brittany mumbled. "He is so nice. He looks like a fairy."

Santana had to agree. When she'd first seen Kurt she'd reacted the way Edward wanted them to. But over the course of time, she'd come to know Kurt as everything Edward told them he wasn't.

According to Edward, Kurt was a danger for their society. He was crazy and psychotic and he would kill them if they gave him a chance.

Santana and everyone else had laughed at the idea. Kurt, a human? Able to kill them? It was ridiculous.

But then the humans have started protecting the new kid like they would protect a weapon. They had started training Kurt. What for? (To kill us, obviously, Edward had asserted.)

But Santana still hadn't believed. Kurt was too humane to be able to do that. She knew that Warblers could kill them if they did anything out of the rules. But Kurt? No way.

Then again, Karofsky had came back with a swollen eyeball today. He had raged about how Kurt had attacked him. He had raged how Kurt had forced him to be violent when all he wanted to do was to talk to him.

Santana still hadn't believed him either. She knew that Karofsky was a bitch. She knew that he also somewhat closeted and hadn't stopped staring at Kurt's ass ever since the first day he came to McKinley. But a swollen-eye ball from a delicate looking thing like Kurt was a serious issue. Edward had been so mad.

"Let's just say that we will help you," she said now, collected and thoughtful. "What then?"

"We go free. Simple as that." Sebastian stood up to face her to emphasize. "Think, Santana. Do you want to live here all your life—which is gonna be longer than pathetic human life—or do you want be happy with Brittany. Your choice."

"But Kurt…"

"Kurt will either live or die," said Sebastian coldly. "I don't care. I just want out of this town. And if that means a loss of one more pathetic human…so be it."

He left. Brittany had small traces of tears in her eyes. Santana hugged her close and mumbled, "Shh, it'll be OK. We'll be OK."

"B-but Kurt," Brittany blubbered. "He's innocent. I don't believe Edward. Kurt can't hurt us."

"I believe that too," said Santana. "But may be we'll have to think of an alternative. Where we can be happy and Kurt can stay alive. Don't worry, Britt, I'll never hurt him, I promise."

Brittany nodded her eyes full of trust on Santana. She kissed the Hispanic girl again, and they snuggled together to sleep. It was only afternoon, but that was why they stayed inside. Daylight wasn't very friendly to them, and snuggling with Brittany under the covers was Santana's favorite part of the day.

That evening, Edward sent one of his servants to fetch Santana from the library at the Smyth's residence. There had been some new development after Kurt-Karofsky drama this afternoon.

She arrived at the meeting hall to find everyone present. She made her way to Quinn and Brittany, taking seat between the girls. Together, the trio made the Unholy Trinity. Their job was to make sure that the rule breakers were punished—punished harshly, and in every unholy way possible to guarantee that others didn't break rule again.

The other "team members" (Santana nicknamed everyone else as Slaves) was present too. Lauren Zizes, with a new scar on her cheek looking sullen, sat with Jesse St. James, son of St. James Sr., the town Bank owner. Sugar Motta sat looking important, with a furious looking Dave Karofsky. Azimio with his troop of thug looking watchers and body guards.

Sebastian's mother, Margaret Smyth, sat with her son. She was just as cold looking as Sebastian, but she talked less and did anything her husband told her, just like any other of the "Slaves".

Lauren muttered grumpily about why they were here. Sugar frowned arrogantly at her. Then Edward Smyth entered the room with Sheriff Motta, Russel Fabray, and St. James Sr.

"I have some disconcerting news," said Edward without preamble. "We've just received intelligence that Jack Anderson has been leaving town without our notice."

There were shocked faces all around. This was unheard of. The rule to not leave town without Edward's permission had never been broken before. This was the breach of rules in its utmost form. But then again, the Warblers rarely followed rules.

"That's a disgrace!" Sugar announced decidedly.

"They should be killed," said Dave, still fuming about his humiliating defeat at Kurt's hands. "All of them!"

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked seriously. As a Trinity member, it would come down to the three girls to punish the rule breakers.

"I'm positive!" said Edward. "I had my most trustable guards watching their movements. And one of them saw Blaine Anderson leaving from the Hummel's residence just a few minutes ago. He saw that Blaine received a text from Jack Anderson announcing in following words…" Edward took out a piece of paper from his pocket and read aloud—"I think I'm gonna be late, again. Make sure Coop stays unaware of it. He'll worry over nothing. Dad."

"That still doesn't prove if he's out of town," said Santana dismissively.

"Who's Coop?" Sugar whispered to Lauren who shrugged.

Edward smirked. "That's what I thought as well, Quinn. But then I had my minions search further and what do you think they found out? Jack Anderson hasn't been in town for last two days! He wasn't at his store, his deliveries were handled by his son Blaine. He wasn't at the Tavern when the humans celebrated the rain. He wasn't sighted anywhere on the hill."

"Maybe he's ill?" suggested Brittany. "I've heard that Humans get ill when they stay in rain for long."

"Then I had Azimio investigate further," said Edward, as if Brittany hadn't even spoken. "Azimio, stand up and tell us what you discovered!"

Azimio stood up with a proud smile. "I found out that while the humans have been sowing their fields and training Kurt, they also have been aware of Anderson's out-of-town escapades. One of Noah Puckerman's boys by the name of Felix Bosky is son of the town watch guard at the check post. Boskys have known about Anderson's trips for a while now. I went with some of my boys and carried out the suitable procedure to investigate them." He smirked evilly. "They told us everything. Even the time when Anderson leaves town and when he comes back."

"You see!" Edward said heatedly. "We let them live after a decent amount of taxes and payments they have to present. And this is how they repay us! They are running out of ways to defy us, so they are now planning on eliminating us. Imagine what they'll do if there wasn't our kind to keep them in check. They are the lowest on the food chain. They are prey we are the hunters. They can't rebel!"

Sugar, Dave and Azimio got worked up in frenzy at Edward's speech. They wore identical faces of hatred and evil and bloodlust.

"They brought that HUMAN!" Edward spat the word like a curse, "in our midst so that they can conquer us! Look at Karofsky, look at his wasted eye! This is what they want to do with us! To kill us and we can't let them do it. Now Anderson goes and breaks the rules so blatantly! We have to stop this before everybody else takes hints and follows his example! We have to retaliate!"

Quinn frowned. She looked conflicted about a few things but didn't protest. "What do you want us to do, Edward?"

Edward smiled cruelly. "Make sure that Anderson is dully punished. And make sure that his son and their merry troop of outcast killers get the suitable message of what happens when somebody crosses our paths."

Santana was a bit worried but orders were orders. "We'll go right away then."

The Trinity got up and left the meeting room. Quinn frowned deeply even as they discussed about how to best approach the matter.

"You think it's suspicious, don't you?" Santana accused lightly.

"Yes, it's kind of strange," Quinn agreed. "They are breaking the rule but we left them no choice. Edward nullified their contract and they have to provide food for the town's people. I am sure that the only reason Anderson would leave town like that involves trade item or food deliveries and nothing more."

Santana admired Quinn for that reason precisely. She was logical and reasonable against Edward's bigoted cruelty. "I think so too. Edward's making a big deal out of it due to his own fears. He thinks that the humans are rallying against us out of town."

"Even if it was the case, they haven't brought the soldiers or forces from out of town all the times they've left. Kurt's the only person who had entered the Hilltown border in the last month." Quinn sighed in frustration. "But we have to do it! We can't disobey. We just can't."

"I'll get supplies, then," said Santana. "You and Brittany meet me outside in the forest."

As she left the Smyth Mansion for the parking lot to get to her BMW, Sebastian came out of the shadows.

"So my father has hatched yet another plan to make sure his minions stay furious and loyal against the humans," he said casually, joining her. "What do you think of that?"

"Go away, Sebastard. I have work to do."

"Oh, you mean innocent humans to kill and use their deaths as a warning against their sons!" he mocked scathingly. "Well, well, I am stunned. Are you the same Santana who was worrying about Kurt this afternoon? Are you really gonna kill Anderson?"

"Kurt hadn't broken any rules!" Santana said angrily, knowing fully well that Sebastian's accusation was just. But what choice did she had? "Anderson have. So he'll be punished. End of story."

"Let me join you for fun, then," said Sebastian and promptly got into the passenger seat. "It's been a while since I've killed and fed on a human."

"Oh, how long?" Santana mocked. "Three hours?"

"No actually, just one hour. But I'm hungry for more. I'd love to join you."

Santana started the engine angrily and made her way toward Crowley's hardware.

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know," said Sebastian sounding almost human.

"I don't have any other choice!"

"Don't you?"

And Santana was now seriously considering it. So what if Kurt got hurt. It would mean they'll be free. It would mean the humans will be free of Edward and his stupid doctorial regime. Just because they were stronger and better than humans doesn't make them gods. Edward didn't understand that. He lorded over Hilltown like he actually was a god. But that was the problem. He was powerful. And if Santana didn't obey, the false god will punish her and Brittany. And that wasn't acceptable.

Their freedom in exchange of Kurt's life. It started to sound plausible and none too horrible.


	6. Chapter 6: Blood and Fire

**~ CHAPTER 6 ~**

**Blood and Fire**

I wake up again and my head is pounding so badly that I feel like I'm just about dying. The bruise on my jaw isn't helping much either. No matter how much I try, it causes me pain every time my jaw comes in contact with anything, even the soft blanket or sheets.

I get up and search my wall clock with bleary eyes. It's almost 2 o' clock in the morning now. And the house is a host of many murmuring voices. At first I blame it on my pounding head. But then I distinctly hear footsteps outside in the hallway.

The next minute, Finn throws open the door of my room and the light from hallway stings my eyes. I groan against it and say, "What's goin' on, Finn?"

"Another meeting," he informs me. He looks happy, I wonder why. "I came over to check if you are awake. Dad's kinda, like, hoping if you'll care to join us."

This was a big deal. Burt inviting me to the secret night meets. So I nod and get up to get my bearings. I change into decent outfit that collide both with my farmer garb and my own tastes. I'll have to ask Carole to help me with shopping soon because of my recent bodily changes. My tight jeans almost never fit me now. The ones I now wear are the only pair left in which I don't feel like it'll rip apart any minute. I comb my hair into passable state and then I make my way downstairs. The strange and welcoming sight greets me in the den.

Many people from the celebrations earlier are here. But there are a few faces that I don't recognize.

Sam and his father Mr Evans; the Football Coach Cooter and his wife Shannon; Mercedes with her parents; Joe with his father; Rory and Jake with Riley; Mike and his father; Mr Schuester and his rumored girlfriend Emma Pillsbury and Mr Figgins. But apart from them; there are two new people whom I don't know about. One is the short-haired blonde woman from that first night and the other is a dark haired woman who sits with Rachel Berry.

Burt sees me and gets up to greet me, asking after my health.

"My head hurts," I mumble.

The people assembled laugh loudly at that.

"Join the club, kid," says Old Riley. "We all are a bit hung-over."

"Go and find Carole and ask her to give you some pan cakes," says the short-haired blonde woman. "It worked wonders with me. I can actually see the bluish veins in your arms."

Burt chuckled tightly. "This is Sue Sylvester, Kurt. And that's Rachel mother, Shelby."

I say hello to both ladies and then duck into the kitchen for help. Puck and Mr Jones sit on our dining table, both looking ill and groaning as they clutch their heads.

"Headache?" asks Carole as she spots me.

"Yeah, like hell," I reply and join Puck and Mr Jones. "You guys too?"

Mr Jones groans awfully. "Blast it! Burt had to arrange a meeting tonight! Can't we get drunk after celebrations in peace?"

"It's important Mr Jones," says Puck, kneading his fingers in his temple. "Tonight's the night."

"What do you mean?" I ask when he looks at me pointedly.

"You're getting Sworn in tonight, Kurt," explain Mr Jones. He looks slightly impressed. "You proved yourself worthy after encounter with Dave Karofsky."

I blush at his praise. The first time I had met Mr Jones I almost thought that he was strict and unfriendly. But maybe it's the headache? Anyways, I was happy at his praise. Being the father of my best friend and then praising me like this meant a lot to me.

Carole puts a plate full of stacks of steaming pancakes in front of us. "Dig in, boys. We ought to start already. It's getting late."

We start eating. Almost after a few bites my head begins to settle down. Mr Jones is able to sit straight and attentively and finish more pancakes. Puck looks relieved after his head starts to ache less.

We then join the others out in the den. The elders all occupy the few seats around our modest sized den. Puck and I join Rory and Mercedes on the carpeted floor silently. I look at Old Riley, waiting. I just assume that he's the eldest of us all so he'll be the one starting the ceremony or whatever. But it's Burt who stands up.

"Hey everyone, again," he says to slight chuckles around the room. "First up, Happy Rains everyone!"

People smile and nod in agreement, murmuring Happy Rains back (yes, it's a thing here.)

"We're here tonight because of a few things that have arisen within last 24 hours. As you all already know, Kurt is new in town and has yet to be sworn in our family." Everyone look at me before returning their attention back to Burt. "He's been trying really and admirably hard to adjust into this new environment. I respect his efforts because compared to his life in California; Hilltown must seem like the medieval centaury."

There are more giggles when I smile rapidly in agreement.

"But he's been constant and patient throughout all the weirdness. For that I want to congratulate him with all my heart."

To my uttermost embarrassment, everyone claps slightly at this. I duck my head to hide the blush on my face. OK, this is getting rather too much. Mercedes grabs my hand and squeezes it in assurance. I squeeze back, silently thanking her.

"Before I start the ceremony for Kurt, I'd like to explain a few things to him." Burt looks at me now. "I know things have been strange, Kurt. But I need you to understand that this is an important observance. Not only would it make your position in this town clear, but it'll also give you the advantage of property and ownership."

I blink, trying to take in all his words.

"By property and ownership, I mean that you'll have as much right to my house and my shop and the filling station that I own, as Finn and myself. It may mean nothing to you, but your situation in town will change rapidly. You'd not be just a new Hummel kid. You'd be Kurt Hummel, owner and property holder of Hummel estate and business. Do you understand what I am saying?"

I nod meekly. "Yes, Uncle. I'll have a name and position in the town."

"This will lead you to enter the rules and regulations directly. Meaning that the Smyths will not break the rules that they've created on their own. Hence, you'll be safe from their continuous harassment."

Burt looks at everyone else now. "I'll need to know if any of you have any objections to this."

Nobody says anything. Then Riley, speaking for everyone, declares, "No, we don't have any objection. We accept Kurt as a worthy member of our community." Everyone nod to support his declaration.

Burt clapped his hand once, looking excited. "All right then! Shall we proceed?"

Finn spoke up now. "Dad—the Andersons still aren't here."

Burt looks a bit worried but says, "I'm sure Blaine would have no objections to it either. Speaking of Anderson, I'll also like to formally declare that I have, like Puck here, allied myself with the Warblers."

This is received with mixed emotions. Some react with shock, some with resignation.

"That's outrageous!" Rachel Berry declares. "They are so secluded and reserved! We can't trust them!"

Burt frowns at her. "Rachel, as one of the Deserters, you have no say in the matters of my family or friends."

Rachel looks pissed off. She opens her mouth to say something else but Sue overrides her with, "That's enough, Divaberry! The Burt has spoken. We are the Deserters; hence we stay out of the main drama! We only came here to witness the ceremony for the little Princess." She smirks at me.

"I beg your pardon?" Burt says angrily. "What did you call him?"

"Princess," says Sue nonchalantly. "Or do you prefer anything else? Lady Hummel?"

Figgins sighs softly and whispers to Mr Hart, "Oh great, here we go again." Mr Hart agrees with a smile.

Burt turn red in anger and I look down in fear. Does Sue Sylvester know about my sexuality? Was I about to be outed in front of every one of my friends and their families? Or is just the sarcastic prank she's playing because, hell, I was wearing my Alexander McQueen scarf?!

Puck takes my other hand and squeezes in support. He looks worried too.

"I'll prefer you called him Kurt, as that's his name," Burt says brusquely.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention o be rude," says Sue. "It's just that he doesn't look like a Kurtis, you see. He looks more like a Princess."

I speak up now before this turn into a war. "If you just want to give me a nickname then it's all right. You can call me—um—Prince?"

Sue looks surprised that I've agreed. "No, no. I'll call you—Porcelain! What do you say?"

"OK, I guess. That's better than Princess at least."

Sue claps her hands in happiness. "There. All settled, Burt. Don't get your locks in a twist. Proceed."

I notice that Mr Evans and Old Riley look amused at this whole exchange. I look at Rory in question and he smiles back with a shrug. Mercedes leans close to whisper to me that, "Burt and Sue are kind of each other's arch-nemesis ever since they were school fellows. It's just a kind of thing they do. It's quiet entertaining most of the time."

Burt clears his throat at once. "All right! Let's begin! I'll need the necessary equipment."

Carole gets up at that and runs to the kitchen. My heart starts beating rapidly at the word 'equipment'. Was I gonna have some kind of operation? My fears increase when Carole comes out with a crystal bowl, a knife, a bottle of Tincture and a wad of cotton. She sets it all on the table in front of Burt, and Burt calls me close to him. I get my hands squeezed in support by Puck and Mercedes both once again. Then I make my way, on my knees, to the table and Burt.

Burt looks me in my eyes; his blue eyes are full of love and honesty. I relax at once and smile in assurance at him.

"Give me your arm, son," he says softly. I comply.

Burt takes my arm, push away the bracelet I wear and expose the inner side of my lower arm, near the elbow. He takes the knife and then places a bowl underneath my arm.

I frown at once. I think, maybe, I knew why this felt familiar to me. I'd noticed whilst on fields that all the boys had these weird scars on their inner arms close to elbows. Was that how you became sworn? By getting scars?

I almost know what is about to happen. But when it does, I gasp in surprise.

Burt suddenly slits near my elbow and dark blood gush out of my arm. Against my pale skin, the blood almost seems black.

Everyone in the room sits still, transfixed by the sight of drops that fall into the glass bowl underneath my arm. Then Burt uses cotton and Tincture to clean my cut. Carole comes in closer and applies a stick-on bandage on my cut.

Burt takes hold of the bowl with a small quantity of my darkish blood swirling in it and examines it closely. The expression on his face is unreadable.

"Riley," Burt breathes finally. "I—I don't know…"

His words are just like the knife that cut me a moment ago. Everyone nearly flinches at his uncertainty.

"What do you mean?" Finn inquires in a croaking voice. I exhale again in shock when I spot small traces of tears in his eyes.

But my all friends look on edge, Rory, Mercedes and Rachel (who looks more like she's being dramatic) are actually close to crying. Mike seems to be holding Mrs Jones hand in support.

What the hell is going on?!

"I mean, I DON'T know," Burt says again, and put the bowl back on the table with a thud. "I don't…know." Burt looks close to tears again.

Riley and Mr Evans now scoot closer to inspect my blood once more. They whisper to each other, looking concerned, and I try hard to catch their words. I listen and a few words become clear to me, much to my shock and horror.

"Impossible," says Mr Evans. "He looks…"

"Black! Honestly, Black!" Riley says in incredulity. "He's one of them…"

"Can't be! He's Paul Hummel's…"

Sue interrupts then, looking superiorly angry. "Oh, cut it you OAFS! Let me check that!"

She garbs the bowl and sniffs my blood. Then she holds the glass bowl against the light of a lamp and mumbles, "Bloody blind maggots! Look at that! It's red, I tell you!" Then she spots the cotton that Burt had used to clean me off. "And Look at that! The white cotton, it's got red blood on it! You bunch of senile fools! He's OK! He's a Hummel!"

Everyone relax visibly at this. Finn and Mercedes garb me in a hug, both smiling happily through the tears. Burt hides his face in his hand and Carole, crying too, holds on to him. Everyone is smiling now. Sue nods importantly again, setting the bowl back on table and sits back, looking as if she'd accomplished a feat.

Riley takes the stage then. "As everyone has witnessed, the blood shows. Kurt is a Hummel truly and not one of the enemies. We congratulate you Kurt and be one of us!"

"YAYYY!" Sam, Joe and Puck yell at once.

Rachel and Shelby pop open a champagne bottle to celebrate.

"No, way!" Figgins says miserably. "I still feel as if someone has banged on my head with a hammer! I am not drinking anymore."

Many of the gathered people are of same opinion. They decline the drink but congratulate me with relived smiles.

I still feel confused, though. But nobody gives me much of a chance to think on it as everyone gets up and starts slapping my shoulder playfully. It's like I'm officially part of the herd. Even Miss Pillsbury, who almost never touches anyone from what I've seen of her in school, comes and pats my cheek in honest affection.

I am still stunned. What Riley and Mr Evans said, "One of them" it still bothers me. Just so my blood is darker, does it make me an enemy? I am spared the thought of considering it anymore by the ring of the doorbell. It is hurried and persistent.

Burt now looks up and smiles. "Must be the Andersons," he mumbles. "About time!"

He goes to open the door. We all stop in mid-activities at the sight that greets us.

It's Blaine, all right. But he looks scared and petrified. His hair is still gelled but unruly and unkempt, as if he'd been in the soft drizzling rain for last few hours. His eyes are wide and gone is the smile that was brighter than the sun. He's crying, hiccupping, uncontrollably so.

"Burt," he sobs, stepping inside the den and almost falling on his knees. "Burt…my Dad…"

And then he faints in my Uncle's arms.

Sebastian keeps hogging Santana all through the shopping process. She considered killing him but every time remembered that he's the son of the Master, so she refrained.

"So what's the game plan? I know your standard protocol for this but considering that it's Blaine Anderson's father you have to punish, is there gonna be some special method?" asked Sebastian in his same smirking tone.

Santana fisted her hands tighter but stayed silent. She instead said to Crowley, "Throw in some acid too." She looked at Sebastian when she said 'acid.'

Crowley, the fat and evil looking hardware store owner scurried into the depths of the store house and, at that moment, dull rummaging sound of metal things clashing against each other echoed through the store. Sebastian and Santana both turned around to see Quinn and Brittany entering the shop, closing the heavy metal door with the same din as before.

"Well?" asked Santana.

"Clear," said Quinn. "Nobody saw us. We took shortcut through the back alley and Harvey's fields."

"Not even the Warblers?" asked Sebastian, he sounded mildly impressed.

Quinn gave him a sneering glance. "Of course, they didn't! How do you expect us to do our job if we get caught by those human assassins?"

Crowley came in view, holding the necessary equipment and dumping them in a satchel, before handing them over to Quinn. She gave him a thick wad of money and then said, "Let's move, girls. We can't afford any mistakes now we have a short time leash as it is."

Sebastian fell behind them as they made their way out of the storehouse.

"What's he doing?" asked Brittany looking confused.

Quinn rounded on him as well. "Yes, why are you here?"

"I just want to witness that you girls bring about the punishment fully and without mishaps," he said smoothly.

Quinn frowned again. "Did Master put you up to this?"

Sebastian laughed. "Who, Dad? Heck, no. I'm just extremely bored and hungry right now."

"We can't have anyone with us, Seb. Go away and let us do our jobs," Santana said shortly.

"Yes, we'll report about our mission when we're done," Quinn said coldly. "You'll just get in the way. Besides, you can have meal someplace else. What's that club you took us to that one time? Scandals? Yes, go there and leave us alone."

Sebastian knew that the Unholy Trinity was his father's best girls. There job was supposed to be fast and flawless. So he did not argue—for now—and tipped his head slightly before leaving through the front door and made his way toward Scandals.

The Trinity waited for two more minutes before exiting from the back window and through the paths they knew wouldn't show up at Warblers' super spying telescopes. They slowly and cautiously made their way all the way to the check post.

Quinn peered over the parked car near an electronic shop and spotted a very beat-up looking Felix Bosky sitting guard, looking alert but forlorn. Quinn felt a pang of sympathy for the miserable human before she signaled the others.

The three girls got past the check post and Felix easily enough—it wasn't that hard due to the super speed and strength they possessed—and were out on the blooming fields. The girls kept to the edges, respecting the tenderly toiled-on land, and made their way toward the forest as quickly as possible. They weren't being cautious now, as the Warbler's could spy only a little beyond the check post. They ran with impunity and vigor of exercise. This part of the hunt was always exciting, this strength that set them apart from normal creatures.

Brittany was the first to laugh when they raced out of the thick, perilous forest onto the highway. They girls ran up and Brittany was the first to touch the wooden plank of a sign that said "HILLTOWN: 2 MILES"

"I WIN!" she giggled, throwing her hands up and twirling.

Santana and Quinn had been seconds behind her but they were laughing as well. Santana grabbed Brittany around the waist and pulled her in to kiss the giggly girl on the forehead.

"Yes, as always," she said fondly.

It was an unspoken thing between the Trinity to always let Brittany win with stuff. It made Santana more in love with the girl, while Quinn felt happy when her friends were happy.

When they sobered up and stopped giggling, the real importance of their race here came down on them with a heavy weight. They were about to murder an innocent soul who broke the law just to help other fellow humans. In Edward's book it counted as the 'law'. But in the girl's mind, it was just ruthless murder.

"Let's prep," said Quinn, abandoning every happy thought.

The Trinity got to work. They first tracked the land, sure enough; there were signs that a vehicle had recently and regularly made its way out of the town.

The highway was silent and empty. Not a single vehicle had passed by ever since they had come. It was one of the reasons why Hilltown's location had been so convenient to Edward when he first came to live here with his coven of vampires. People mostly preferred the Interstate and not the olden highway that was the only way to connect Hilltown with the rest of the civilization.

They set up their trap and climbed up the trees to wait for Jack Anderson. But tonight, their heart was not in the hunt. Jack was a strong enemy, had been, for all those years they could recall. Even so, those years have been so full of thrill and strategies. Quinn vividly remembered every victory she'd had over the Warblers, and the memories brought a smile to her lips. Yes, Jack and his band of merry teens were a part of the town and history. Without them, Hilltown wouldn't be the same.

Brittany got subdued and snuggled closer to Santana as the time passed slowly. Three vehicles passed by them on the highway at top speed—each time making the girls attentive and tensed for action. But none of the cars turned to the Hilltown dirt-road or the traps they'd set on it.

Quinn kept checking her watch after every five minutes. They'd have to wait as long as they could for this thing. Mistakes weren't an option, and so wasn't the postponing of their mission. If the target didn't arrive within time limit, they'd have to go where the target was.

The nearest and biggest city was Fort Smith. The other bigger cities like Jacksonville or Little Rock were too far out for the kind of short trips Andersons had been going on. If need be, the Trinity would have to go after Anderson to Fort Smith—if they didn't find him there, then they'd risk going further.

But that wasn't required after all. Even as Quinn formulated a new plan to move out of the town, a heavily laden pick-up truck became visible on the highway, slowly making its way toward the dirt-road. Quinn checked her watch one last time. It was 10 minutes to 1 o' clock. She looked over at the tree where Santana and Brittany were hiding, and nodded once. They nodded back. They were ready.

With precise driving and slow turn, the truck turned into the Hilltown road, and stopped. The passenger side door popped open and a tall, slim looking teenager got out of it. Quinn squinted against the glaring headlights and recognized the teen as Kevin, one of the Warblers.

Kevin walked up to the road, his boots made squelching sound on the muddy road. His t-shirt got soaked a bit in the rain that fell in blobs from the tree covering overhead. Quinn almost acted at that moment. But Kevin stopped a few yards away from their first trap. They'd hidden the traps well enough but Kevin's trained Warbler eye could still spot them if chance be.

But then he turned back and jogged toward the truck. He got in. The Trinity, due to their amplified senses, heard him clearly as he told his findings to Jack Anderson.

"Well?"

"I don't know, Andy. It doesn't look good. There's nothing ahead but I'm 99% sure that somebody's been on the trail very recently."

Andy paused a while, looking at the dirt-road in the glare of headlights once again. "It could've been one of us? Or Puckpeople? Maybe they came to check on us?"

Kevin shook his head firmly. "No. The tracks aren't like one of us. One of THEM have been here recently, Andy. I'm sure."

"How recent?"

Kevin waited a while before saying, "Half an hour, at most."

Andy sighed, revving the engine again. "We'll have to be careful, then, won't we? Let's just hope for best, huh?"

Kevin took out a knife from a slot near his ankle. "I'll make sure the passage is safe. You just drive like hell, Andy."

Quinn tensed as the truck suddenly rushed forward, tires slipping and squelching in the muddy road. She didn't have to see her companions to know that they were ready too. The truck passed by their hiding spot without any problems.

Quinn took off after the truck, keeping to the trees and leaping branches as swiftly as a squirrel. Beside her, Santana and Brittany kept pace easily, their eyes shining red in the tail-light of the truck they were following.

Quinn psst at the girls and they suddenly stopped short. Their first trap was just a few feet ahead.

The pickup truck drove headlong into the trap. With a loud popping noise, the front tires burst as they came in contact with metal speed breakers hidden in the muddy road. The truck skipped to the left, almost hitting the tree, but Andy, showing great driving skills, saved it at the last moment. But not soon enough. The rear tires went off with loud pops too.

In the muddy trail, the tire-less truck moved slower. Andy still wasn't stopping. Kevin was hanging half out the window, looking back at what he knew was a pursuit.

"NOW!" Santana roared.

The Trinity snapped into action once again. Picking up their pace, they were now ahead of the slow moving truck. They had to apprehend the target before it got any closer to the check post.

Santana let go of the branch she was hanging on to, landed heavily on the bonnet of the truck, causing it to jolt to a messy stop. Andy instinctively hit the brakes now. But the truck went sideways and crashed into a tree nonetheless.

Santana jumped off before the crash. She now drew a huge breath in before letting it out. Quinn was poised at the back of the truck. Brittany on the other side. They had them surrounded.

Then, Kevin leapt out of the passenger side door. He was now holding a long saber and a dart gun. His head had a gash and dark streams of blood were pouring out of it. But he didn't even stop to think as he charged. He pointed the gun at Santana and fired. A sharp, wooden dart flew out of it. Santana bent her torso sideways and missed it by just mere inches.

But now she was angry. She drew back her lips, snarling as her teeth sharpened. Her eyes went black and she lunged. Brittany jumped over the crashed bonnet and attacked Kevin from behind.

Quinn made her way towards Andy.

Kevin fired at Santana rapidly as he slashed at Brittany from the other hand and his saber. One of the dart hit Santana in the shoulder, and she yelled in pain. Fine streak of smoke rose up from her wound. She ripped the wooden thing out of her shoulder with an angry hiss. Brittany got distracted for just a second at that. But it was enough time for Kevin to throw his saber at her, draw out another gun from his jacket and point it towards Santana who was, now extremely pissed off, charging at him again.

She slashed at his face with her long finger nails, causing Kevin to scream in agony. She kicked him five times rapidly in his leg, a sharp crack sounded loudly. Kevin screamed again, falling on one knee as his leg gave out. Santana, using all her strength and long sharp nails again, grabbed him by his neck, and bit into his jugular.

Andy was badly injured. His head had hit the windshield headlong at the crash. He came to, only to hear Kevin scream in pain as he fell to his knees. He grabbed his rifle from where it was fallen on the floor and got out of the door. He stopped short and Quinn grabbed him and yanked away the rifle. Somewhere on the other side of the truck, Kevin screamed again.

"Kevin!" Andy yelled in concern.

Quinn moved toward him, slowly and lethally. Her eyes devoid of color or emotion.

Kevin heard Andy's concerned yell and an iota of strength flowed back in his body. He couldn't let anything happen to Andy. Andy, who has been like a father to him and all the Warblers. He had to save Andy, or at least, give him a chance to escape.

He pivoted his hand, with the dart gun still in it, toward where Brittany was slashing at his throat on his left. He fired once. Brittany screamed and backed away. A wooden dart buried deep in her neck, a trail of smoke rising up from her sizzling skin. Santana snarled and broke Kevin's other arm, causing him to moan faintly. She disarmed his other hand as well, throwing the dart gun far way.

"You shouldn't have done that!" she growled at his face. "You shouldn't have hurt her!" And she went for the killing blow.

"Neither should you," he whispered softly before pulling out a grenade from his jacket pocket. Santana had just a moment's warning before she grabbed Brittany, and lunged away. Then, the area exploded into a fiery cloud. The truck's windows all shattered and then the engine gave out another blast.

The whole forest rang with the noise. Then the sky was ripped in half by lightening and the rain started falling heavily, quenching the fire even before it spread.

Nick was softly messaging Cooper's hair as the boy slept with his head in Nick's lap. The movie had ended a while ago and everyone was in bed now. Blaine and David were still on the roof for Andy's return. So far, they'd stayed outside.

A soft padding sound of feet startled Nick and he looked up to find Jeff in the doorway. Jeff's hair was ruffled and his eyes were sleepy.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" he asked groggily.

Nick smiled slightly. Jeff had his cute moments at times. "I was just about to. Cooper wanted me to sing him a lullaby before he went to sleep."

Nick placed a pillow under Cooper's head and got up. He tucked the boy in the blanket and kissed him on the forehead. Jeff walked out of the room as Nick turned off the light and closed Cooper's door.

Nick turned to find Jeff extremely close to him. He blushed suddenly and backed away in the direction of the hallway. "Let's go back to our room."

Jeff didn't say anything. He was just looking at Nick with some sort of absorption. "Nick…wait."

Nick did. He waited for Jeff to say something, or at least, stop looking at him in such a way that made Nick uncomfortable. "What?"

"You…were you, like," Jeff trailed off. Then he suddenly asked, looking earnest. "Why are you always so sad, Nick?"

"What?" Nick blinked in confusion.

"Why are you always so sad? I see it sometimes, that look in your eyes. It's like you're alone even when you're with us. Your eyes gets so far away and…well, sad." Jeff rubbed his eyes to better focus on Nick. "Why? Is…everything OK…with you, I mean? Has something been bothering you?"

Nick went really still at that. His licked his lips in disturbance. "No…there's nothing. I'm actually really happy ever since I joined you guys. Why ask?"

"I just wanted to know. And you are not happy. Not really. Tonight's been one of those rare times that you were actually smiling, Nick." Jeff moved closer still and held Nick's hands in his own. "I just…know you are sad. And I want to know why."

Nick got lost in Jeff's warm eyes for a second. But all he was aware of were Jeff's hands holding his own. "Why do you want to know," he whispered at last.

"Because…because I want to see you happy Nick. I need to see you smile like you did tonight, everyday. I just want to let you know that I'm your friend and I'll do anything to keep you happy."

Nick snorted a little misty-eyed. "Oh, point taken. And…I'm sad because I'm alone, Jeff. I'm different than almost all of you. I know that being different can be cool sometimes but—it's not cool for me. I can't go out there and stay happy because I'm, like, the only out-of-closet kid in the entire town. And so, yes, I'm sad."

Jeff smiled softly. "It'll be OK, Nicky. I promise. One day, some dude will fall for you so hard he'd be dead if he couldn't have you."

Nick smiled tightly at that. He took away his hands from Jeff's grip and shrugged. "Well, until that dude finds me I'll just dream of him, I guess. Now let's go back to bed. I'm sleepy."

Jeff chuckled and put an arm around Nick as they made their way to their room.

Then they heard a blast that echoed through the town faintly.

"What was that?" Nick asked in alarm. "It's like when that transformer exploded that one time…"

His sentence drowned as the lightning flashed outside, shaking the whole town with the thunder that followed.

"It's just the storm," Jeff said with a wink. "Hailstorms in Hilltown, ooh mama! I wish it keeps up for a whole month at least!"

Nick chuckled and they both settled in their beds for night, not worrying as the lightning, thunder and rain grew heavier.

Blaine was feeling strange. It wasn't the fact that he'd have the strangest day, and stranger night, of his life. But the fact that the feeling of dread, the foreboding in his heart, grew heavier even as he saw no real activity in the town this night.

Sure, he'd seen Santana's car outside Crowleys'. Sure he'd spotted it as Sebastian had made his merry, strutting way toward Scandals Club. But, really. He'd seen Sebastian in that lowly place more often than he cared to remember. Nothing suspicious about that, was it?

No. But the feeling grew worse as the night deepened. Dad should have been home by now, he mused in worry. I don't know how long we can keep up the pretense.

But Andy didn't come back. Blaine left the survey of town to David. He settled with his binoculars and examined the check post and forest road alertly. Andy will have to come back soon. He just had to.

With every passing minute, Blaine blamed himself for not caring about it before. He blamed himself for giving the boys a night off like that, especially when Dad wasn't around for damage control. The boys should've been on duty tonight. They should've been around the town as usual.

Slowly, the feeling was unbearable. He felt as if somebody had his heart in a tight grip, and they were squeezing it forcefully with every passing second.

"David, anything?"

"Nope. Everything looks normal. Some drunken dudes just got out of Scandals and to home, but that's about it. What news of Andy?"

Blaine didn't answer him. His eyes were fixed on the dark forest road. Surely Andy wouldn't stay out of town for one more night?! That would certainly alert the Smyths of their law breaking!

"Blaine, check this out!" David said suddenly. "Sebastian."

Blaine turned his binoculars toward Scandals and observed Sebastian Smyth. He frowned. OK, the feeling just got out of hand. Something was definitely wrong here.

Sebastian Smyth was leaning against a parked car. There was an unmistakable arrogance in his pose. Blaine thought that he was smirking. But Sebastian seemed to be looking straight at the hill. At the Dalton House. At them.

The only reason Sebastian would be so arrogant, gloating, and looking at them like this, would be if there was something going down. Dread gripped Blaine's heart insistently and he suddenly looked back toward the forest road. His mind was reeling in thoughts, memories.

Something had been wrong tonight. What?

Nobody had followed him or the Hummels as they walked home. He was sure. He'd kept close watch all around him. Nobody had taken any advantage of the fact that half the town's people had been drunk as they went back home after the Rain Celebrations. He remembered that the Smyths and their cohorts had last years killed four girls due to the same Celebration and the carelessness it entailed for the town's people.

Nobody had been around Hummel's house either, so Kurt was probably safe. In fact, there was a meeting tonight at Hummels. Sure enough, when Blaine turned his binoculars toward the Hummel's house, he spotted Sue's Ford and Puck's convertible, with the old Chrysler Figgin's owned parked outside. So the meeting was ongoing right now. Meaning Kurt was with many people who were capable of keeping him safe.

NO. NO. NO!

It was something else. What was it?

Then he barely remembered. His walk back home from the Hummel's a few hours ago. Somebody had followed him. But that still didn't explain why he'd be so tensed like this. Surely just because someone followed him didn't mean that they knew about their law breaking?

Then Blaine went still. Dad's text. He had been reading Dad's text when he found out that somebody had been right above him, in the tree's branches. Knowing that it was one of THEM, they'd have, maybe, possibly, read Andy's text too. Which meant…

Blaine sprang into action promptly. He drew out his gun from his jacket and lunged toward a wooden pole jutting out on the roof. He jumped on it, as it bent downwards and then let go. He landed squarely on his feet in the garden below.

David had just realized that Blaine had jumped off the roof. He ran to the edge and said in alarm, "Blaine…what's wrong…"

Then an explosion sounded in the night. Followed by lightening that lit up the world for a millisecond.

From his high perch on the hill, Blaine spotted an orange glow, far out, deep in the forest, on the dirt road. His feelings of dread confirmed. He started running in passion.

"Keep everyone inside! Don't tell anyone about anything!" he yelled at David ad he started running down the hill's slopes at top speed.

He barely made it to the road that he became aware of three set of footsteps following him at a run. He twirled around and fired blindly at one of the approaching monsters. The wooden bullet hit Azimio squarely in his chest, he keeled over, dead. His body went ashen white before dissolving in the intense rainfall.

"Stop, Anderson," Sebastian's voice came out of the shadows. "It's either that or you get your father's dead body delivered to your doorstep. Your choice."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM, YOU ASSHOLES?!" Blaine yelled in aggravation, tears shimmered in his eyes as he blinked rapidly.

Sebastian materialized out of the darkness, followed by Karofsky. "We want to make a deal."

"FUCK OFF!"

"That's the only way you can save your father, Blaine."

Blaine, keeping his gun poised, asked in anger, "What do you want from us! He was just trying to help!"

"I understand, Blaine," said Sebastian, he looked almost sincere. "My father and his laws…they are cruel, I know. But there's a way to save your Dad. If you'll just listen to me."

"What way?"

Sebastian moved closer to Blaine. "You do realize that my father would take action because your Dad broke the law. You do realize what it means?"

Blaine swallowed another wave of dread. "The Trinity."

"Yes, Blaine, the Trinity. The only way those bitches will get off of your father is when I tell them to. But I can't go against my father, can I? Hence, I have a deal. I sent Lauren to you with an offer before but you refused. This time, I hope you'll be more reasonable."

Blaine waited a minute. "What do you want?"

"Kurt."

Blaine felt as if somebody invisible had taken hold of his innards and ripped them right out of his stomach. He gasped as anger, frustration and worry engulfed him.

"NO! No, I can't do that. You can't have him," Blaine nearly sobbed. He desperately hoped that David, who was sure to be watching, doesn't tell his Warblers about how defenseless he was right now. He hoped that David didn't tell Cooper.

"Think about it, Blaine. Just one boy in exchange for your Dad, his life." Sebastian was very close now. Karofsky was slowly making his way around Blaine, covering him from the back, waiting for a fight if it broke out. "One boy…it wouldn't make any difference, Blaine. I'm sure there have been times that you were unable to rescue EVERYONE from my kind. It would be just like that. Just collateral damage."

Blaine shook his head firmly, blinking out tears and raindrops. "No, that's not collateral damage. That's murder! I'll be handing you Kurt as good as if I'd murder him. I can't do that. Ask me anything else—anything at all, please—just not that, OK! Not Kurt…"

Sebastian hissed in anger. "I'm afraid that you've made your choice then…"

Blaine cocked his gun again, screaming his anger and grief, and fired three times. Sebastian dodged the wooden bullets and then barked at Karofsky, "Dave, Now!"

Blaine was just in time as Karofsky attacked from behind. He fired at him, making the monster hold back a moment. But then Dave kicked Blaine in the gut, and moved for the killing blow.

A wooden arrow whizzed passed Karofsky's neck. He growled and looked at the direction of the hill. Just faintly, he made out David perched on one of the lower ground trees on the hill, a bow in his hand, another arrow knocked in it, ready for action.

"Retreat!" Sebastian growled at Dave, and they both moved at top speed toward the shadows again.

As he left, Sebastian yelled at Blaine. "Mark my words, Anderson. You'll deserve what's coming for you now. But you still have my offer. Surrender Kurt, and I'll let your pathetic family live!"

Blaine clutched his stomach in pain. Tears were leaking from his eyes. For the first time, he felt hopeless. He looked where the explosion had went off—he knew Dad was there somewhere, in trouble, fighting against the Trinity—and he groaned in pain. He couldn't do this alone…he couldn't tell his Warblers. He hoped that Andy was still alive, that Sebastian was keeping him alive to bargain with him, but he knew how devastating the news will be for his team.

He needed help. He needed it now.

With a look at David, who seemed to be crying uncontrollably too, Blaine started to run with painful leaps toward the Hummel house. He'd find Puckpeople there. He needed their help.

Quinn had barely registered the fact that Kevin was going to blow them to bits that she lunged for Anderson and dived in the covers of trees at top speed. She hoped that Santana and Brittany had been fast too. Then a searing wave of heat and smoke hit both the girl and the human. Quinn smelled singed hair, her eyes blinked rapidly out the tears.

When it finally died down, thanks to the rain that had started, she looked for her companions. Andy was staggering; she let him drop floppily in her feet. Santana and Brittany emerged from the smoke and found her instead.

Brittany was clutching her neck, black blood gushed from her fingers. But she looked OK, as her wound healed rapidly. Santana informed Quinn about Kevin with a grimace of her mouth. He was dead, blown apart from his explosion.

They now attended Andy.

He looked calm for a person who was now bleeding profusely. He just sat on his knees; his unfocused eyes were on the blown pick up truck.

"Anderson," said Quinn, feeling weird for she knew he was in anguish of Kevin's death. "You've broken the law. Do you deny?"

Andy didn't say anything. Then, as if he just realized they were there, he looked at them sharply. His face morphed in a painful expression and he whispered in devastation, "It's gone! Everything I bought, it's gone!"

It took the girls a minute to understand what he meant. He wasn't aware that Kevin died. He was worried that his supplies were all blown apart. He was worried for all his people.

"I spent hours…hours…making sure that I had enough…for everyone…" he mumbled in gasps, tears leaked from his face. "It's gone now…what will they do without it…what will happen to them…?"

Brittany started sobbing as she saw the man. She looked at Santana and said, "He's sad. His family is hungry, San, what should we do?"

Santana held the girl in her arms, soothing her with soft strokes of her hand. She looked at Quinn. "What now? He definitely wasn't assembling an army against us…"

Andy suddenly realized that Kevin was nowhere to be found. His head perked up suddenly. "Where's Kevin? Where's my Kevin? Have you seen him?"

Quinn stayed silent.

Andy hopped up on his feet, wincing in agony. He looked angry now. "What have you done to him, you bitches!"

Quinn explained. "We didn't kill him. He blew himself up to save you."

Andy sniffed loudly. "Oh, you wonderful boy!" he whispered awfully. "Why? Why do you want us dead? You're the ones who nullified our contract. How else are we supposed to provide for the people? Can't you see…I HAD to go out there? I had to."

"So you don't deny the charges?" Quinn said promptly.

Andy fell back on his knees again. He shook his head. "No, I don't. Yeah, I broke your precious law. Do what you will with me." And in surrender, he bowed his head.

But for the first time, Quinn couldn't bring herself to kill him. For the first time, she questioned her own methods and Edward's rigorous punishments. All the while thinking, He just wanted to help the town. He's innocent.

"I'm afraid we can't let you go…" she said warily.

"I know, Quinn Fabray. I know. But…I will ask one favor of you, please, before you kill me."

Quinn nodded without question. Yes, that was the least she could do for him. She could help him one last time as compensation for killing him.

"My sons…don't hurt my sons. I beg of you…don't hurt my boys, my Warblers. I know Blaine won't be happy with you when you kill me…but don't kill him, or any of them. Just…please, if you have even a scrap of humanity left in you, don't hurt anyone. Not the people. Not Kurt. Leave this town. Let us live in peace. That's all we ever wanted…"

Quinn's heart went heavy at his pleading. Even in death, he was thinking of the others. He was a pure soul…and she was about to kill him. She looked at her companions and found Santana's eyes wide in shock and sadness. They exchanged a long, meaningful glance.

"We'll consider your request. Just give us a moment," said Santana and the girl moved a little away to discuss, keeping him in sight as Andy silently cried.

Brittany spoke first. "Don't Quinn. Please, he's innocent. We'll lie to Edward. We'll lie that we killed him and buried him far away. Please…"

"We can't. Edward's spies will know of our treachery. In fact, Anderson will have to return to Dalton eventually. He won't be able to hide forever."

"But…we can't, Quinn. It's heartless!" Brittany pleaded, her beautiful eyes leaking tears. "What kind of rule keepers we will be if we killed him without any actual crime?"

Santana nodded too. She was thinking hard about it. She thought about Sebastian's offer. And now, Andy's resignation to death, his last request, had staggered her greatly. She wasn't sure what she could do anymore.

Quinn closed her eyes and breathed heavily. No, she couldn't kill this man now. Not when she'd seen his very soul, his very spirit this way. No, she had to think of something. And fast. Edward's spies would be drawn to the explosion site even as they thought about it. Not to mention the Warblers. What with their constant night watch, they'll certainly respond to an explosion like this.

"I know what to do," Quinn said to her girls.

It took Santana a minute to realize what she meant. Her eyes went wide. "Quinn…NO. The Warblers will hunt every last one of us if we do that…"

"Do you have any other idea?!" Quinn snapped in anger. "That's the only way Santana. To not kill him, but to appease Edward as well…"

Brittany frowned and then gasped. "You're gonna turn him!"

"Yes," whispered Quinn, looking back at Andy's flopping posture. "But it'll be his choice."

For a few long seconds, nobody responds. Then all at once, Carole and I are running toward Blaine. Jake, Puck and Mr. Jones run out the door to check for any danger or attack, they have guns in their hand (where had the guns come from?) Riley and Shelby joined us as Figgins and, Mr. Hart and Mr. Shue started calling for help and informing others.

I take Blaine's head in my gentle grasp. I smooth away his wet curls and then I notice—

"BLOOD!" I gasp. "He's got blood coming out of his mouth!"

Shelby and Sue push aside Carole and start ripping Blaine's shirt apart. Before I could protest at their insistent touches, Burt tell me, "It's OK, Kurt. They're doctors."

So I nod and let them examine Blaine. As the shirt comes off, I notice a bluish bruise in Blaine's left ribcage area. Shelby presses her hand experimentally on the bruise and Blaine gives a throaty scream in his unconscious state.

"STOP! You're hurting him!" I snap at her.

She doesn't look at me. "He's got three broken ribs and minor bleeding in his liver. Probably caused by some heavy blow."

Riley who is standing behind Burt grumbles, "It's one of them. They're capable of breaking bones this way. I'll bet my head on it."

Jake, Puck and Mr. Jones come back inside at that moment. With them are Thad and Hunter, who must have been on duty outside our house tonight.

They take one look at Blaine and their Warbler persona peels away. They suddenly look like defenseless boys, worried for their brother.

"What happened to him?!" Thad demands.

"We don't know," says Burt firmly. "He just got here."

"He was running in so much pain," says Hunter, he looks close to tears too. "I knew something was wrong but he signaled us not to abandon post. Then Puck came out and we knew…"

"We'll have to take him to hospital," says Shelby after some other examinations. "Or I could use an extensive first aid kit right now."

"I'll get it," my Aunt says in firmness and scurries to the kitchen. She comes back with a huge trunk like briefcase.

"Put him on the sofa, hurry up!" Sue snaps at the Warblers. They compile at once, taking Blaine away from me with gentle hands.

When they put him on couch, I go and sit close to his head again. I don't even give a damn about what my family thought of it. I just needed to keep my eyes on his face…I just needed to know he was gonna be OK.

Shelby and Sue patch him up as fast as they can, while Burt gathers together everyone and explains in grumbles about something. I hardly pay attention to him. All my attention is on Blaine, and his face as it sometimes twists in pain due to Shelby's ministrations. I keep touching him, his forehead and shoulder, making sure that he was OK, alive, warm…real. For once I don't care what all the people in the room were thinking. Right now, I just wanted Blaine to be OK.

"That's all I can do," says Shelby finally. "If we were in hospital or my house I'd give him some sedatives to relax. But that's just about it, for now."

Sue and Shelby both step away after that. Only I stay by Blaine's side. Then Thad and Hunter join me silently. Thad takes hold of Blaine's jacket and Hunter sits on the armrest of the couch, looking down at Blaine's face in worry and anticipation.

By now, Mr Figgins and Mr. Schuester had gone to their respective homes. Ms Pillsbury, having seen so much emotional drama, was in the kitchen where Mercedes was trying to calm her down. All the boys seem to be hurrying here and there in prep for something.

Burt comes up behind me and clears his throat shortly. "Boys, I need to talk to you."

Hunter stays where he is, only Thad gets up and follows Burt to the other end of the den. They start talking in low voices, but soon their voices start rising.

That's when I finally look at them.

"I can't possibly tell you anything Mr Hummel," Thad says through clenched teeth. "I was on guard duty outside your house. We didn't hear anything. Except for that one sound that sounded like an explosion."

Explosion? I hadn't heard any explosions. Seeing the few confused faces of my friends, they hadn't either.

"What explosion?" Sam demands warily.

"Just before the rain started," Hunter speaks up from where he sits on the couch near me and Blaine. "I thought it was probably somebody's tire busting but—now I'm not sure."

Burt nods firmly. "Let's just say—for argument's sake—that it was an explosion. Where was it, then? And how does it relate to…Blaine's father?"

Hunter and Thad exchange another worried glance. Then Thad takes out his phone and calls someone. A few seconds later he starts speaking… "Hey, David. YES, he's here! What do you know of it? Are you sure? What? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T TELL US? WHAT PROMISE?"

Blaine stirs feebly at Thad's raised voice. I suddenly turn back to him and start stroking his forehead soothingly, till he clams down again. I can still hear everything, though.

"Here, kid," Burt says authoritatively. "Lemme talk to him." A pause. "Hello, it's Burt Hummel. Yes, son, he's here. And he's pretty beat. He collapsed on my doorstep before he could explain anything. So what I now want you to do, son, is to explain to me everything that you know—or saw—tonight. It's the only way to help him, son."

Then there's a long pause. I peek up at Hunter to gauge his expression as to what was going on behind me. He was biting his lips in agitation as David explained on the other line to Burt whatever the hell happened.

Burt grunts twice through it all. Then. "Are you sure, son? You saw it with your own eyes? OK, I trust you. OK, we'll leave now. Tell your bothers the exact location of the explosion."

Then Thad started talking to David and 'hmms' and 'uh-huhs' and Hunter gets up to join him too. I'm alone with Blaine now. When I look at him again, I nearly gasp.

His eyes are open. He's awake and he's looking at me silently and with dazed eyes.

"Blaine…are you OK? Does it hurt?" I mumble, and stupid tears have to form in my eyes just now, blocking my view of Blaine at such an urgent moment! Perfect.

"Kurt…I need to…Burt…tell him…"

"Burt!" I turn around at once. "Blaine's awake. He needs to see you."

My Uncle joins us and sits on his knees like me. Bending close to Blaine's face he asks, "Yes, son? I'm here, what is it?"

"My Dad…Trinity…they found out…" Blaine chokes out. "I couldn't tell…Warblers…I needed to see you….please, I need help…"

"Of course, Blaine. Yes, we'll help. In fact, I talked to David just now he's told me everything he saw. Don't worry. We're preparing a search party even as we speak."

Blaine frowns. "I wanna come too."

"No," Burt and I say at once.

"You're injured, Blaine," Burt explains.

Blaine grunts and then starts to get up in a sitting position. Burt and I try to make him lay down again but—damn!—he's strong. Hunter is there at once, helping Blaine up with gentle hands.

"Is it true, Blainers?" Hunter says with a hushed voice. "Is Andy really…"

"I don't know," Blaine whispers, his thick lashes shimmer with new tears. "I don't know…Sebastian said that he could make a deal and—" he stops suddenly and then looks at me. Something in his gaze wakes up and as if some invisible surge of power ripped through him, he is on his feet again. "He offered me a deal—in exchange for Dad. This means he may still be alive…"

Puck, Finn and Sam thunder down the staircase at that moment.

"We're ready, Burt!" Puck announces. "Whoa, Blaine! Easy man, you shouldn't be moving, you have broken ribs."

Blaine paid no attention. He searched in his pocket and fishes out his cell phone. He calls someone and then says, "Nick, yes, just needed to tell you to keep an eye on Cooper for me. I've gotta go with Puckerman for some urgent thing. Yes, I'll be back soon. Just—just keep everyone safe, OK. Lock up the whole house, don't let anyone in. Ask David to come off the roof as well. Do not let anyone close to you until I return, do you copy?" There's a long pause then Blaine grunts in satisfaction. "OK, I love you, Nicky. Keep everyone safe. Goodbye."

Hunter and Thad exchange a confused glance.

"But, Blaine…what about surveillance? We can't let go of surveillance while…"

"Screw the surveillance," Blaine muttered heatedly. Then from his inside pocket he draws out a slick looking blade—cutlass?—and he rips off the rest of his shirt till he's only wearing his soaked jacket. He says, "I don't want anyone watching the town tonight. I don't want any eye witness to when I gut those assholes."

Burt seems to be taken aback at this venom in Blaine's voice. "Son, I get that you're upset but we still don't know for sure if your father's really—gone. Just, calm down, OK?"

In answer, Blaine gave Burt a look. None of us actually caught that look but it was enough to make Burt swallow and then nod in resignation. "OK, son. It's your call."

Then the boys all start to line up in front of the door, all carrying various weapons. I watch them with confusion a while…they all seem to be going for….battle, or whatever this was. All of them. Even Blaine who's injured (but it's his Dad's life on line so, yeah, I get that.) But then I realize why I was so confused even when all was in front of me. They were leaving. Without me.

"Wait up," I say hurriedly making my way to the stairs. "I'll get that baseball bat I've in my closet. Just wait, I'm coming…"

Finn stutters out a "what?" and Puckpeople all look at Burt in alarm.

"Kurt, stop!"

I do. I've never heard Blaine's 'authority' voice, and seriously, it was beyond powerful. I turn to look at him in question.

"You are not going with us," he explains in a cold voice.

"Like hell I'm not…" I huff out in frustration. "What do you mean? I'm just as much a part of this group as anyone and—I've been sworn tonight! I gotta go with you guys. It's….I gotta go, OK."

"Kurt, you're staying home," Burt says with finality. There's an expression in his eyes that I can only read as fear. Fear for my safety. And that more than anything else, confirms my going.

"I'm going with you guys," I say trying not to sound too high-pitched and shivery. But that doesn't happen, obviously. My eyes haze over with tears of frustration again and I blink furiously against them. "You're not giving me the whole 'keep Kurt safe because he's not sworn' crap anymore. I'm sworn now and so you have to let me come!"

"What if you get hurt?" Finn says this time and he looks genuinely worried. "You're not trained enough for this, Kurt."

Before I could tell him that I was gonna be fine, thank you very much, Blaine strides straight up to me till he's in my face. What happened to his injury again and how can he even walk that fast with so much pain?

"Kurt, Sebastian made me a deal that required, basically—" he stops and shakes his head. "What I'm saying is that Sebastian is adamant about hurting you and your family. So, please, let's not make it easy for him. Stay here where you're gonna be safe. And let us do the dirty work."

"If he wants my family harmed its all the more reason for me to go with you guys." I don't know where this confidence is coming from but I was not high-pitched anymore. My voice is steady. "I need to go with you, Blaine. Please. I need to stay with my uncle and Finn…I can't just sit here."

The others seemed to have melted away from us. All I could see was Blaine and his entreating eyes. Some of the boys open the front door and go outside to give us space. Thad and Hunter, after a curious glance at their leader, also leave. Only Burt, Riley, Finn and Puck are present near us.

At last, Blaine looks away from me. I become aware of my squirming guts. God, the way Blaine Anderson makes me feel you'd think I was a teenage girl!

"Burt, tell him to stop this madness, please."

And, wow, my Uncle actually listens to him. "Kurt, don't make me ground you, son. You have to stay here within safety of this house."

I glare at my Uncle in disbelief. But then I snap. "SAFTEY! What fucking safety? All of my "protectors" are going out the door right now…how the hell am I gonna be safe here?!"

That seemed to have fazed them. Blaine and Burt look at each other, realizing their mistake.

"Thad," Blaine calls and the Warbler comes hurrying inside the door. "You are staying here with Kurt."

Thad frowns but nods his head in obedience.

"Hell no! I want to come!" I am high-pitched again. Great. "I'm not letting you baby sit me again!"

And without hearing their verdict, I charge outside the door and stand with Rory (mostly because he wouldn't judge me as others,) fuming with anger. Some time passes, and I'm drenched in rain water. I shiver ever so slightly as the wind touched my wet skin. But I stand my ground and ignore the looks I was getting from my friends.

Burt and Blaine come out of the house then and we start to load into Burt's jeep and other transportations of the people of the meeting tonight. Blaine tells everyone the rough directions of the site of the explosion and we start our journey. He sounds angry and throws me a look or two which I can only describe as 'disappointed' or maybe even 'worried' but I don't care. No way are they ever treating me like a delicate little lad again, ever. And how can they even think that I was gonna sit by while my Uncle and Finn were out there with those crazed (if what Karofsky's incident with me have told me anything) monsters? This was it. I was going to have to prove them that I was more than this.

And that, my friends, is where I get a little worried. How best to show them that I was worth it, again?


	7. Chapter 7: The Hunt

**~ CHAPTER 7 ~**

**The Hunt**

Nick had always been a light sleeper. And tonight, with the constant rumble of clouds and lightening outside, it was too easy for him to notice when his cell phone started to vibrate insistently. He frowned as he picked it up, seeing Blaine's name. All the possible case scenarios ran through his mind (most important of them all that Andy was finally coming back) but he discarded them and attended the call.

"Hey…Bl—"

"Nick, yes, just needed to tell you to keep an eye on Cooper for me. I've gotta go with Puckerman for some urgent thing."

"But aren't you here? Did you—"

"Yes, but I'll be back soon."

"What happened?"

"Just—just keep everyone safe, OK. Lock up the whole house, don't let anyone in. Ask David to come off the roof as well."

"Blaine you need to—"

But Blaine overrode him with his curt orders. "Do not let anyone close to you until I return, do you copy?"

Nick waited for a while. This was not right. Usually when Blaine ignores questions and just barks orders it meant something bad was going down or he was up to something dangerous.

"Yeah," Nick said at last. "I copy."

As if to prove it to Nick further, Blaine's voice just got a bit soft, and Nick's heart started thudding dreadfully in his chest. "OK, I love you, Nicky. Keep everyone safe." Nick opened his mouth to say something but "Goodbye."

The line went dead. Nick stared at the phone in worry. First of all he did what Blaine told him. He went to check on Cooper. Then he called David downstairs. Then he sat in the deserted living room, waiting.

David came down looking drenched and frowned at Nick with an astonishing question on his tongue. "Blaine called you? He's OK?"

That more than anything made Nick sure of something bad happening or about to happen. He assumed his role as a second hand man of Blaine and said sharply, "David, come here, sit."

David obliged and still looked concerned.

"What happened? I need to know everything David."

With a few short sentences, David explained, adding, "But he called you? Meaning he's awake and fine? What did he say he was gonna do?"

Nick told about what little Blaine had said and then added, "He…he said goodbye."

"Shit," David gulped. "He's going all out after them, isn't he?"

One of the things they knew about Blaine for certain was that he NEVER said Goodbye, unless he meant it to be the only Goodbye ever said.

The boys sat thinking over it for a while and then Nick made up his mind.

"No, just no. He's not going there all alone! One of us should be with him." Nick stood up readily to go after Blaine.

"I'll come with." David added.

"No, you'll stay here and make sure that Blaine's orders are carried out. It's better if only I go."

David agreed rather reluctantly as Nick softly made his way back to his room. He changed into his 'work' clothes and started looking for his daggers and guns, as quietly as he could.

"Nick?" Jeff's groggy voice interrupted him. "What are you doing up, again?"

"Go back to sleep, Jeff. I'm going for a walk."

But Jeff was now awake enough to see properly. "In your mission clothes? What's going on Nick?"

"Nothing you need to know," said Nick, checking the gun's bullet compartments if they were full, before hitching them with the holsters around his belt.

Jeff was out of his bed. "You're going on a mission, aren't you? Good, I'm coming with you. You'll need help."

Nick sighed in frustration. "Look. Jeff." He assumed his sternest expression. "You can't come with me. I have to go alone. Please."

"But you don't have to, Nicky," Jeff said earnestly, his eyes impossibly wide and innocent. "I told you I wanted to keep you happy here. I'm gonna make sure you're safe, so I'm coming."

"No, you are not, and that's final." Nick glared at him and then stalked away from the room.

He reached the door when Jeff's strong arm gripped him by the elbows, turning him around to face the blonde Warbler.

"What is wrong with you Nick? Why are you being so... so shitty to me?!"

Nick growled in frustration and pointedly shook his arm till Jeff let go of him.

"You wanna know what my problem is, Jeff? You wanna know why I'm sad? You wanna know why I can't smile without feeling as if someone's stabbing me in the chest?!"

Jeff backed away at the sudden force in Nick's voice.

"It's because of YOU! Jeff, YOU are the reason why I'm unhappy like this. YOU are my problem!" Nick was close to tears but he continued staring at the other boy, his chest heaving due to force of his anger and emotions.

"Why...What do you mean...I have never done anything to you!" Jeff burst out in confusion.

Nick sniffed loudly, closing his eyes, readying himself for the inevitable.

"Tell me Nick! Why do you hate me?!"

"I DON'T!" Nick all but yelled, making Jeff gasp. "That's the problem. I don't hate you! I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, JEFFERY! I fucking love you! And I know you'll never feel the same way about me, you'll never even consider someone like me as your lover! And that's what kills me, Jeff! That's what makes me unhappy!"

Nick left then, closing the door firmly but silently after him. Jeff stood there, shocked, still. He stood there like a man broken, his eyes brimming over with tears.

The convoy of cars, pickup trucks and jeeps. That's what Karofsky and Sugar noticed first. The convoy coming from Hummel's house.

"It's just a search party," said Sugar contemptuously. "I'll bet my fangs on it."

"But we still have to report," said Dave.

Sugar nodded in agreement. And then they both were running, flying over rooftops, tree branches and buildings till they made out of the check post and toward the field where Sebastian was waiting on them.

Sebastian didn't know earlier if he could do it, but after Azimio's death, convincing his father's guard to help him take out Kurt had been abominably easy. There he was now, standing between a cluster of extremely pissed-off vampires. And he couldn't help but smile at his own luck. Santana hadn't given him any answer yet, but maybe now, after the loyalty of all these monsters, he wouldn't need her help anyways. Besides, he was almost certain that Blaine wasn't going to consider his empty deal anyways.

He spotted Dave and Sugar first as they ran toward them.

"Well?" he asked as they stopped still in front of him, not even seeming out of breath.

"They've put up a search party," informed Sugar. "All the people from the meeting are going."

"And?"

"Kurt's with them," said Dave with a proud smirk. "I smelled him in the jeep with Burt and Blaine."

Sebastian gritted his sharp teeth in anger at Blaine's name. Not that he was scared of the little human assassin, but it was Blaine's interference with Kurt that bothered him. Sebastian didn't like competition, especially from the puny humans. And Blaine's defense of Kurt was nothing short of a declaration of claim on Kurt, in Sebastian's opinion. And that made him angry.

"Good," he said to his team. "We'll take Kurt and we'll take care of Blaine as well. It's time the boy joined his father in heaven."

There were roars of raucous laughter at his words. Then they started running toward the explosion site.

Edward was furious to say the least. He was pacing up and down the length of his office as he tried again and again to contact his son. But Sebastian's phone was stubbornly off.

"What is this boy up to!" he yelled at no one in particular.

His guards and advisors stood a little away, observing him without saying anything.

"Is there any news of the Trinity?" Edward asked yet again.

"Not yet, Master," said Russell Fabray. "But I'm convinced my daughter and her team won't disappoint you."

"I'll believe that when I see Anderson's corpse in front of me!"

At that moment, one of the guards entered the office looking flustered. "Master, may I?"

"Yes, what news."

"Um, it's the Trinity, my lord. They are here."

Edward nodded in relief. With Russell Fabray and Jesse St. James Sr., he made his way out of the office to where the guard was leading them.

They entered one of the storerooms and saw the girls there, looking drenched and muddy with the smell of smoke on their lean bodies.

"Master," said Quinn in acknowledgment. "We've brought Anderson."

"Is he dead?" Edward asked sharply.

"For now."

Edward stared at the girl in question. "What do you mean, girl? I specifically told you to kill him. What can you mean by 'for now?'"

"I mean that we were outsmarted. They are the Warblers after all. Before we could carry out the deed, Kevin blew himself up with a grenade."

Quinn had practiced this story on their way here. It was the only likely one to make Edward believe and accept their course of actions this night.

"Are any of you harmed?" asked Russell Fabray.

"No father, we were lucky," said Quinn. "But it staggered us. And not to mention the explosion alerted the Warblers. So we did what we could with our time."

Now she stepped aside and pointed to the floor. On the dusty floor, Jack Anderson's inanimate form was sprawled in a mangled heap. He looked white, drained of blood. But he looked alive in a weird way too.

"We only had time to bite him, Master..." Santana explained. "We didn't kill him, but... Quinn fed him her blood. He can't leave now. He'll be one your servants, if you want."

Edward moved closer to Anderson, till he was kneeling in front of the motionless body. An evil smirk lit up Edward's face as he examined the changes in Anderson's body already taking place.

"Girls, I do believe we can make this work to our advantage," he said smugly. "James! Take him to the infirmary. Inform me when his transition completes. I have so much to order him."

With a conceding laugh, Edward left the storeroom with Russell Fabray. As he left he again muttered, "Where the fuck is Sebastian...?"

Santana's head perked up at Sebastian's name. She frowned and looked at Quinn. Quinn was busy helping St. James Sr. in lifting up Anderson's body. She looked like a mother about to nurture her baby, which made sense as it was Quinn's blood that was now running through Anderson's veins.

Santana whispered to Brittany to go to bed while she goes out to hunt. And then, Santana snuck out of the Smyth Manor house, toward the explosion site.

Blaine does not speak all through the drive. I try to catch his eye in the rearview mirror of the jeep but he stubbornly keeps watching ahead. Although, his jaw is clenched tightly shut as if he's holding back yells or curses.

Finn sits beside me on the back seat. He notices my discomfort and raises his eye brow in question.

"It's nothing," I tell him. "I just don't have any weapon."

Finn frowns and then takes out a small knife from his belt. "This is really sharp and pure silver. Just one good stroke or slash at them will work, OK?"

I take the knife and nod, even though I don't understand a thing, or even plan to slash at anyone.

As if he read my mind, Blaine suddenly breaks the silence. "You'll have to defend yourself, Kurt, if need be. With the hunt going on, not all of us will be able to keep you safe."

I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror and see honest concern in his gaze. I nod once to let him know that I understand. The way his eyes bore into mine, I can't make myself open my mouth. What if something inappropriate slipped off my tongue?

"Are you sure you wanna do this, son?" Burt asks as he maneuvers the jeep toward the check post.

"Yes," I say firmly. "You're going to need every pair of eyes if we have to search for Mr Anderson and I wanna help." And make sure that Finn and you are safe, and that Blaine doesn't get more hurt than he already is. I want to add it, but I don't.

Finn gives me a small smile almost as if he knew what I hadn't said. Then he digs out a dusty jacket from somewhere in the jeep and handed it to me.

"It's sorta smelly," he says apologetically, "but you're turning blue."

I take it and refrain from hugging my cousin. Really, he is the best.

I slip on the jacket and, yes, it's very smelly. Lord knows how long it's been festering in here. But I instantly feel warm and that's all that matters.

We stop now as the check post comes. Felix Bosky confers with Old Riley who is ahead of us and then he opens up the post to let us all through. Automatically we sit straight. I have to admit that during day time when I join my friends on this road and fields around it, it's a beautiful sight. But in the dead of night, it was just a creepy road going toward the dark expanse on the horizon that was the Hilltown's boundary forest.

When we enter the trees I suddenly realize that ever since I came here a month ago, this is the first time I've been anywhere near that highway. The feeling is kind of extreme, like a sword hanging over me. It's like the moment I'll pass through the Hilltown's borders, something awful will befall me. Or maybe it's just the fact that I'm now officially sworn in and obligated to follow the law that I feel as such.

Blaine barks out short terse directions to Burt. I don't know how he knows where we are going, but I have a gut-feeling that Blaine knows this forest better than anyone in Hilltown—apart from the Smyths maybe.

"It's too near the sign post," Finn observes with sudden clarity.

"It seems so," Burt murmurs, he looks concerned.

"Yes, Dad was attacked just as he entered the town," Blaine confirms coldly.

"But that means," I say as I realize something too, "this was a planned attack. Your Dad was ambushed."

Nobody denies my claim, but Blaine's jaw tightens more which is answer enough for me.

All too soon, we stop. Riley's VW that had fallen behind us as we entered the forest, stops behind us too. We jump out of the vehicle and everybody gathers around us. Everyone seems to be looking at Blaine for instructions.

I bite my lips as I, too, look at him. It's weird this moment. I look around me, at Puck, Riley, Burt, Finn, Sam, Joe, Mr Jones, Jake, Ryder, Hunter, Thad, Rory and M Hart—every one of them was looking at Blaine as if he was the leader. And with a shock I realize that he is. He is the Warbler's leader. As if Blaine Anderson wasn't a mystery enough for me before, he is suddenly far more mysterious now. I suddenly feel sad because I unexpectedly grasp that my hopes were going to be trodden on. Because no matter how little, I was starting to hope that Blaine could be mine one day. How stupid of me…

Blaine is speaking already, I hadn't realized. Only the fact that everyone's looking at me now makes me aware that he is talking to me.

"Sorry…what…?"

Blaine frowns as he examines my face. Could he see the sadness? Could he guess the reason?

"I was saying that you'll go with Thad and Mr Jones, toward that direction," Blaine points to the left side of the dirt road where we were gathered. "Keep close to them at all cost. If you sense any danger or any of strange people come in front of you, yell and call for help, OK?"

"OK," I say obediently.

That was it? We were going to split now? And in that moment I felt what anyone would feel at the parting. Was this gonna be the last time I'll see Burt, Finn…Blaine? I get a sudden urge to throw myself in Blaine's arm and kiss him. But everyone is leaving in pairs of twos and threes now. So I follow Mr Jones and Thad.

Our route is extremely uneventful. Thad is doing all the work. I am impressed for a while at his awesome tracking skills but then my mind starts drifting again. I start thinking about my sudden realization about Blaine. Why would I even think that someone like him could be with me? I mean, he probably have a girlfriend already? Who knows who else lives in Dalton House up there, away from everyone on the ground? He could be married for all I know!

But all the same. I feel as if someone's stabbing me with a knife in my guts, again and again. I feel like crying aloud. I feel like holding on to Mr Jones and spilling out all my dirty secrets, tell him all my problems. I just needed to tell someone.

A sudden silence descends upon us. And I hear ruffling tree branches. Thad goes still. His posture alerts me and Mr Jones and we, too, become ready. I grip the knife—which is starting to look too small and insufficient—tightly in my hand and wait for the fight.

A figure suddenly leaps out of the tree right above us and lands neatly on the feet in a crouch. The only reason I recognize the face is because the lightning illuminates the forest for a second. It's Sugar Motta. Or a much desecrated version of her. Her eyes are all black, even the whites. Her lips are curled back from her teeth—her very sharp teeth.

Thad leaps into action and fires from his gun at her. A bullet—lightning strikes again and I see it's a wooden bullet—hits her in the leg. She screeches but keeps on coming. Mr Jones uses his club and wallops her on the head. She dodges in a movement so fast that even with the next flare of lightning I can't see her.

Only when she doesn't even pause to defend herself from Thad, who's right behind her now that I realize that she's coming towards me. She doesn't care for bullets or a sword…her ultimate goal is to get to me. Now would be a perfect time for me to start screaming—as Blaine said to do—but I'm motionless in fear…and dare I say, fascination? She's so close to me now that I can see her face fully, completely, in the next blast of lightning.

So…this is the secret of Hilltown, then? This is the reason why my Dad ran away with a baby-me all those years ago? This is the reason why my friends were going out of their way to protect me (because I'm the new, clueless kid?) This is the reason why Blaine said I'd either kick him again or run away like my father if he told me the truth?

Hilltown was under the reign of terror…of Vampires!

Now the screams come easily to my throat and out of it. I scream just as Thad slips his blade right through Sugar's stomach. I scream just as Mr Jones push me away from Sugar's outstretched clawed hand. I scream just as I fall, and Sugar sinks her claws into Mr Jones' neck. I scream just as somebody garbs me from behind and yanks me to safety.

And I scream one last time as I turn to thank whoever just saved my life, but find myself face to face with Santana Lopez.

"Really sorry about this, Lady Lips," says Santana and then brings down her fist on my head. Pain flares in my head and everything goes black.

Blaine stood on the muddy road with a pool of blood in his feet. A few paces to his left stood the charred remains of his Dad's pickup truck. The debris of glass, rotting food supplies and metal chunks all form a radius around him.

Finn and Puck, who teamed up with him, were around here too. They have been searching the area for a while now. They were, probably, looking for a dead body or any kind of remains they could bury.

But Blaine knew it was a lost cause. For he had, after one through look at the crime scene, figured out exactly what had happened here.

He bent down and picked up the smoldered black Jacket from the pooling blood in muddy ground. A black Warbler jacket with blue and red strips around the collar. He marveled with a shudder that even though the rain was still falling hard, the red of blood was still where Kevin must've fallen. He then picked up a grenade pin, half buried in mud. A further away, he spotted a discarded rifle near the pickup's driver side.

Dad would've dropped that, he thought. And Kevin must've helped him in running away.

Although, Blaine was certain that Andy hadn't been able to run anywhere, if what Sebastian had said was anything to go by. Meaning Kevin's sacrifice has been for nothing.

He gritted his teeth, blinking the treacherous tears away. It would not do to lose control now. Tonight, he'd either track out exactly where his Dad (if he was still alive) has been taken to. Or he'd go after (even if he had to go alone) the Smyths and murder the lot of them.

"Blaine," said Finn as he came up from the trees. "There are some footsteps in here. Maybe you should check it out. There's also blood."

So Blaine, still not hoping for much, followed Finn into a clove of trees just outside the blast radius. There was just a single pair of feet, very fast a light, dragged on mud, followed by a large blob shaped dent in the wet mud as if somebody had fallen on their knees there. On close inspection, Blaine spotted two more sets of feet. Very light and fading rapidly due to the heavy patter of rain. But he had no doubt that they belonged to Trinity. So the heavy blobs were his father's footsteps. They must've retreated here when Kevin blew himself.

Then Blaine spotted something else. Something that made him go still as a statue, his heart pounding loudly behind his eardrums.

There was another pool of blood, smaller, but unmistakably recent.

"What did you do to him?" he whispered in agony.

Just then an animistic howl rent the air, over the cracks of lightning.

Blaine's head went up, and Finn and Puck came hurrying in his direction, their weapons at the ready.

The next moment a gunshot sounded, followed by another scream and more lightning.

"Thad…" Blaine confirmed, judging from the direction of the gunshots where he'd sent Kurt with Thad and Mr Jones.

He and his companions were running in that direction when another voice screamed. It was Kurt. He was screaming incessantly. Twice, thrice, and went suddenly silent after the fifth time.

"Kurt!" Finn screamed as he ran beside Blaine, unable to control his worried plea. "KURT!"

The forest was then a clamor of many new voices, and gunshots, and the screeches that belonged to the vampires.

Three vampires jumped in front of them just as Blaine neared the place where Kurt had last screamed. He vaguely recognized them from Edward's guards but none of it mattered now. He drew his cutlass and beheaded the first one without mercy. He didn't even blink as the vampire made one dying screech, and then dissolved into ash even as his head flopped down.

Blaine charged the next one, who had Finn almost under his control by now. He impaled the cutlass through the vampire's left arm, and Finn delivered the death blow with his axe.

When they turned for the third one, Puck was already chopping the vampires' left leg, followed by his head.

They ran again. Blaine saw Riley and Jake engaged with a tussle of five vampires, both fighting valiantly but outnumbered. Puck made a noise of protest and joined his brother and grandfather.

"Finn, GO!" Blaine thundered.

"NO! I wanna help Kurt!"

Blaine just grunted in reply. Finn had all the right in the world to help his cousin.

They encountered two more vampires, and both made an easy work of them, before finally rushing to the place where Kurt was.

Except now, he wasn't.

Instead, Thad and a very heavily injured Sugar were engaged in hand to hand combat. Thad had apparently lost all his weapons. And a few feet away from them, Mr Jones was on the ground.

Blaine hurried toward Thad, wanting to assist him. But Sugar made a wailing sound, extremely loud that they had to cover their ears, and then she ran away into the dark forest.

"Thad…" Blaine crouched by his fellow Warbler. "Are you hurt? Bitten?"

Thad only shook his head. He looked really bad. His left eye was swollen shut and his arms were ripped with tributaries of scratches as if Sugar had dug her nails into him continuously.

"Where's Kurt?" Blaine asked.

At this, Thad's eyes went wide. He obviously hadn't realized that Kurt was not here due to the fight.

"Oh My God!" Finn said at that moment.

The Warblers turned toward him to find him kneeling beside Mr Jones' unmoving body.

"He's dead," Finn gasped. "Mr Jones…he's dead."

Blaine checked and saw that, yes, he was dead. Mr Jones' whole neck was split open by one very powerful blow. He had lost blood and breath within seconds by the look of it.

"Where's Kurt?" Finn now asked. "Where is he?"

"I think…they've taken him…" Thad said sounding really miserable.

"No," said Finn shaking his head firmly. "Just no. That can't be…"

But Blaine didn't answer him. Because now, he felt nothing but emptiness. What could possibly go wrong anymore? First his Dad, then Mr Jones and now Kurt. What else could they loose now?

"When I say, converge upon them," said Sebastian to his followers. "Take them in groups…Keep them busy. Delay them in every possible way. Contact me when you find Kurt."

"What if he's well protected?" asked Karofsky.

"Then kill his protectors, Dave, I don't fucking care!"

Sugar frowned. "But that's insane. You do realize what Edward's going to do if we kill civilians without reason…"

"Without reason?!" Sebastian turned on her with fury in his eyes. "What better reason to capture Kurt…who can endanger all our lives?! Why else do you think Dad wants him so bad…because he's dangerous for all of us?! What do you think is important, civilians or us?!"

A long pause followed this speech. Everyone was convinced that Kurt had to be captured. So what if a few people died. They, themselves, will be safe at least.

When Sebastian, hiding with his coven in the shelter of tree branches, saw the humans splitting up in groups, he divided his vampires as well. From this distance, he couldn't actually see where Kurt was or which group he belonged to. But he would be able to catch his scent once he was close enough.

"Now…" he said in a hiss and they all converged upon the unsuspecting humans.

Santana made it to the forest as fast as was possible for her. She had been shocked when she spotted nobody on the Dalton House. None of the Warblers spying. Which meant that ALL of them had gone to search for Anderson.

This was bad. Not that she was worried for herself, she could evade them skillfully. But she was worried that her plans will fail badly if a fight went down. Because in a fight, nobody would be able to keep Kurt Hummel safe. Nobody will be able to keep track if he was hurt or being followed.

If she knew Sebastian well enough, and she had known him for more than twenty years now, then he would make use of the commotion for exactly the same reasons. He'd pounce on Kurt while everyone else was fighting for survival.

Well…she'll have to make sure it didn't come to that. She'll just have to be the one to find Kurt first. No biggie. It was piece of cake, really.

"If only…" she hissed and dashed into the woods.

Then she heard Sugar's animalistic wail. And gunshot. She was very near to them.

Santana put forth all her burst of speed and entered the fray just as Mr Jones made for where Sugar and Kurt were face to face. She hissed a curse under her breath and lunged for Kurt.

Kurt was frozen. Still. He looked nearly mesmerized, and terrified, by Sugar so close to him. He seemed to be lost in her vampirism and wasn't aware of her elongating nails.

Then Mr Jones pushed Kurt a bit, making a distance of one foot between Sugar's claw and Kurt's throat. Kurt started screaming. Santana grabbed Kurt and ran like hell, then stopped a few hundred yards away.

Kurt exhaled loudly and blinked, not realizing how much distance he'd covered within two seconds and turned to her with relief. Then his face went even paler under the rain drops that fell from his soaking hair and ran over his flawless skin in rivulets.

"Really sorry about this, Lady Lips," said Santana and did the only thing she could think of. She knocked him down with a blow to his head.

As Kurt crumpled in her arms, she scooped him up and then ran the other way. Away from Thad and Sugar's brawl. Away from the fighting people. Away from the forest. Away from Sebastian.

Nick had cried all the way. He was still fuming about his confrontation with Jeff.

Why, oh, why had he been so weak and frustrated?! Why had he said all those things?! Why now?! But it didn't matter anymore. What's done is done. There was no going back from whatever the consequence.

He made good time down the hill. Then he grabbed from the shed Blaine's heavy bike. Then he'd streaked his way out of the town, unmindful of the silent night, sleeping people, or traffic regulations even. Not that anyone stopped him. The town was silent. Eerily so. The only noise was the pitter-patter of the rain, constantly falling and making splashy streaks wherever his bike went. The lightning crackled now and then.

Nick spared a momentary gratitude to the God. This meant that barley will thrive. This year's taxes will be paid well enough. And that was a good thing. The only good thing tonight.

He stopped once at the check post, asking Felix about the explosion site. Felix gave him rough directions and sent him on his way with many prayers and hopes.

Then Nick was in the forest. He stopped the bike behind the line of vehicles on the dirt road, way, way inside the forest—almost near the highway. But nobody was in sight. Just as he was about to decide to track for signs on the land—the forest became a host of clamoring noises. Nick's trained ears identified the noises as battle cries, clangs of weapons and screeches of the bloody monsters.

He followed the noise. And joined the fray with Sam, Joe, Rory and Hunter, who were fighting with the largest vampire group Nick had ever seen. And that was saying something because in his last six years as a Warbler, he'd seen more vampires than any of these boys here.

"Nick?" Hunter said as he spotted him, he looked amazed. "I thought Blaine told you…"

"I don't give a fuck what Blaine said!" Nick snapped, making Hunter even more astonished. He'd never seen Nick so pissed or angry. "And you shouldn't either, seeing as you need all the help I can give."

Hunter nodded once with a grin. It was always best to have a Warbler by your side when the times got rough. And Nick's presence fueled Hunter, and others, with hope and new surge of energy as they attacked the oncoming vampires with gusto.

I wake up in a surprisingly comfortable position than I'd imagined. It's dark, except of the burst of lightning. But its also dry. Meaning I'm under shelter. Then I realize there's not much wind either, meaning I'm inside a house or room or something.

I almost dare believe that I'd just experienced an extremely disturbing dream. But then I sense somebody standing over me, and I rethink. Why would I be here? And—oh my god—Sugar was attacking me!

I try to stand up at once. Which is the worst thing I can do because my hurting head spins and I stumble again. A pair of strong, slender arms catch me and help me sit down steadily again.

"Where am I?" I ask whoever it is because despite the lightning I have no idea.

"Probably shouldn't have hit you that hard," says a voice. A female voice…to be exact, Santana's voice.

I go still and suddenly think of that knife Finn gave me. I clumsily search in the pockets of the jacket I'm wearing but I can't find it. Wait, I dropped it when Santana had suddenly grabbed me back in the forest.

The forest! "Why am I here? Are you trying to kill me?!" I ask suddenly, my voice breaks horribly.

"Relax, honey," says Santana in an extremely guarded voice. "I'm just hiding you until things die down."

"Where am I?"

"Don't you recognize this place?"

I look around. I look around real good. And then it hits me, taking my breath away. I'm in a shed. Not just any shed, I'm in my own shed, right outside my Uncle's house.

"You…you brought me home?" I ask, not believing the evidence of my own eyes.

"Yes. That fight was no place for you, Hummel. You could've died and they'd still have been snooping around for your bones."

I shudder involuntarily. Why would Santana save me, for I do believe that's just what she did? Why would she spirit me home in a middle of a fight? Why would she choose to save me when she'd probably killed Mr Anderson?

"You killed Mr Anderson," I accuse her at once. "Why should I trust you?"

She doesn't say anything. But she moves, I feel her move, and then she clicks on the light bulb. My eyes sting for a moment due to the sudden flare of warmth. But then I can see her clearly.

She wears dark clothes; I have to admit, of really cool material. It's made in a complicated way to hug the contours of her body stylishly, yet so simple and practical that I waste five whole seconds just admiring her clothes.

"We need to talk, Hummel. And I have just a few minutes before one of the guards realized I'd saved you and follows our scent." She doesn't even look at me as she says this. She doesn't notice that my eyes go wide at her casual choice of very weird words. "It's against my duty to defy Edward. But Sebastian is doing everything wrong. He's breaking the law just as much as Anderson did. None of us are supposed to kill your kind, Hummel. Not without reason. And Sebastian's motives are entirely his own. He needs you for his own selfish reasons and that's just not right. Do you understand me?" She looks at me now.

I nod once, even though I don't really understand her. She sighs, rubbing her forehead with her palm in disappointment.

"Look, I'm just doing you a favor, OK! I don't know how much you know of Hilltown's history or the way things are…."

"I know what you are," I interject at once, hoping to have further explanations. "I saw S-Sugar tonight…you're like her, aren't you? You are a vam…" And I can't say it.

Santana narrows her eyes, they go black. "Vampire? Yes, I'm a vampire too. Are you scared, kid?"

I chose not to answer that. She sighs and then flops down to sit in front of me in a fluid, graceful movement.

"Listen, Kurt. And listen closely. I'm about to tell you something. And I need you to remember it."

"OK."

"You aren't an idiot, I know that much. So I'm guessing that you've noticed how everyone's so protective of you. How they train you all the time? How they sometimes force you to fight or respond as if they are waiting for something…?"

I nod. Yes, I've noticed that.

"It's because you are unique, Kurt. I have no idea how that is possible or what you are capable of. But rest assured, you have something about you Kurt that made Edward very frightened. Something that made Burt and Puckerman hopeful. Something that was the reason why Paul ran away with you."

I gulp. Did I hear correctly? Did she just… "My Dad? What's my Dad got to do with it?"

"Everything, Kurt. Your Dad. And your Mom."

I shake my head rapidly. This is all too much. I know that everyone is keeping things from me. But to know that those secrets are regarding me, my own self, is just disturbing.

"How do I know you aren't lying?" I say instead. "How do I know you aren't a manipulative bitch?"

"You don't," she says promptly, taking me by surprise again. "But it's the truth. I don't know all of it. But I know some of it. And I'm telling you what I know…if you'll listen."

"I want to know…" I whisper, feeling horrible.

"Sebastian wants to trade you for his freedom. He thinks that his father will give in to his demands if he posed you as a trophy for him. You see, your life in exchange for his release from Hilltown. There's reason why we stay here…and keep everyone inside the limitations of the town, Kurt. It's in a contract that the founding fathers signed fifty years ago when we first settled here."

"What contract? Who are the founding fathers?" I interrupt her again.

"The contract that seals the deal between Humans and Vampires. The pact that none of them would leave town, for a selected period of time, and they would cooperate with each other by paying taxes or other things."

"So…that's why everyone works so hard in the fields?" I start to understand it now. "To pay taxes to the Mayor?"

"Yes, in exchange Edward let's them have food, crops, and passage out of the town for trade. But here's the catch, if you aren't Sworn…"

I think on it just a moment. And it clicks. Now I know why my family wanted me Sworn and protected so bad.

"You will….you will kill them?" I say at last. "You will kill those who aren't accounted for by families…"

"Killing them is a mercy, Kurt. No it's worst. They either become our blood slaves, meaning we drink them off wherever, whenever we want. Or they get turned into vampires, meaning become Edward's eternal servants."

Santana now looked away to the window of the shed. Her face was thoughtful and I think she is concentrating on the sounds outside. I observe her closely while she is listening.

Could it be? Could she be telling the truth…? Was Sebastian really gonna trade me for his own freedom? And most importantly…how can I be talented? I don't have anything worth shit, except maybe my Marc Jacobs collection. I don't have skills, or looks, or money or anything at all. Why would my friends even think that I could be of value like this?

"I can hear your heartbeat, Hummel." Santana suddenly looked at me. "It's slowly getting steady. I'm assuming you somewhat believe me now…?"

And she's right. I do believe her. Somewhat.

"You didn't tell me if you killed Mr Anderson?" I ask instead.

She suddenly gets on her feet, very fast. I gasp because—Fuck! No one is supposed to be this fast! It's not natural.

"They are here," she says. "Let's return you to your family."

She garbs my hand—unexpectedly gentle—and leads me out of the shed, clicking off the light bulb on our way out.

We walk to the front door together and we wait. I can see the headlights of vehicles coming down the street now. The rain is slowing down, and the lightning was now very far off. But even so, the sky is getting paler. It'll be morning soon.

And with a sudden dizziness I realize what an odd life it is. Hours ago, I was confronted by Dave Karofsky, I had a fight with a Vampire! A fight that I won. Then I participated in a weird Rain Celebration with half of the town. Then I got Sworn into Hummel Family. And now…after all the bloodshed, I was standing on the doorstep of my house with a Vampire girl, who's given me a lot to think about.

As the vehicles stop in front of our house, Santana turns to me.

"One last thing," she says, and she sounds gentle too. "Keep safe. Train hard. Don't let Sebastian win. Because I would be really pissed with you if you got yourself captured…you hear me?"

"Yes."

Blaine doesn't believe his eyes. After all he'd seen this night…after all the fighting…it was nothing short of miracle.

Kurt was alive! And he was standing in his porch with none other than Santana Lopez.

"I'm gonna kill that bitch if she'd hurt him," Burt growled beside Blaine as they made their way hastily toward the front door.

Finn broke through first, his face spilt in a huge grin. "KURT! OHMYGOD, KURT!"

Kurt smiled too and threw himself in Finn's arms. He was relived that Burt and Finn were both OK and not much hurt by the looks of things.

Blaine cocked his gun at the ready, pointing it to Santana, who still stood there without moving.

"Kill her," Riley growled from somewhere behind.

Kurt looked up from Finn's shoulder at that. "NO! Don't kill her," he said hurriedly. He stepped forth, and looked Burt in the eyes. "She…she didn't hurt me, Uncle. In fact, if it hadn't been for Santana, Sugar would've killed me. Or Sebastian would've taken me."

"What do you mean, Kurt?" Burt asked as he gathered Kurt in his arm in a hasty hug.

"I mean she saved me. She took me away from the fight. She brought me here to keep me safe."

Burt, and everyone else, was shocked at this. They looked at Santana, who was still as a statue with no expression on her face. She didn't make any hostile move, so they gave her space.

"What do you want?" Blaine asked Santana with repressed fury.

"To talk," she replied calmly.

"We don't want to talk," Blaine thundered. "Anymore deals you have to offer, you can shove them up your ass!"

"I don't have a deal, fancy pants," she said with a smirk. "I just had to warn you against something. Something that will be very helpful in future."

"I don't trust you," Burt said firmly.

Santana looked at him sharply, narrowing her eyes. "I just saved the life of your son, Burt Hummel. I think you owe me your trust."

Burt went really still as if she'd said something forbidden. His eyes popped dangerously and he gripped his rifle tightly.

"What do you want?" he demanded with clenched teeth.

"As I said, to warn. Sebastian is plotting really nasty stuff to bring Kurt to Edward. Now, we all know that Kurt is talented. But we don't know how. But Edward isn't going to take chances. He'd order us to kill him, if he didn't believe in his own rules. But as it is, he's trying to come up with a plan that involves an offer in near future."

Blaine frowned. "What offer?"

"He'll make you trade Kurt with him anyways, in exchange for a lot of freedom for everyone in Hilltown. Possibly when you give the taxes the next month."

Riley cursed colorfully at that.

"If you think we'll hand over Kurt just for the perks, you're dead wrong!" Finn said with clenched fists.

"Well, his offers are going to be really good," Santana said. "You may even consider it…that is, if by that time Kurt is still unresponsive to your treatments…"

Blaine made a sudden move toward her but Thad and Nick held him back.

Santana smirked again. She had their attention now.

"So I advise you train him fast. Or you bundle him away from this town as soon as possible. Or be ready for Edward's wrath. Even I don't know what he'll do once he realize…" she shrugged, letting it hang.

"Why are you telling us this?" Riley inquired.

"Because I'm against the breaking of rules. And Sebastian is gonna break a lot of them in coming days, mark my words. So I'm hoping you'll keep it under control. And I know that when Edward gets fearful, he considers his own safety first. And Kurt has made him fearful. Your refusal will send him over the edge. And then the hell will break loose."

She walked off the porch now. She crossed the length of the driveway, past them all and turned around one last time. "It's going to be daylight soon. So I should scram. The sun will come out in a few hours. I hope you enjoyed the rain while it lasted. Oh and before I forget, I'll tell Kurt the truth now before its too late, Burt."

"Did you kill my father?!" Blaine screamed after her.

She looked back. There was a very strange expression on her face. But then she simply said, "Yes. I'm sorry."

Then she was walking away.

Blaine didn't know that until this time, he had been harboring just a faint trace of hope. A hope that his father was alive. That Sebastian meant what he said about the trade. That he'd kept his father alive in order to exchange him for Kurt. Even if a larger part of his heart and brain said that it was useless to trust Sebastian's word.

But now, that bit of hope, it was gone. It was the final way Santana had said it. It was the way she'd said sorry—when they never said sorry for killing people—that made him finally believe that he was gone. Andy was gone. Blaine, and the rest of the Warblers, was fully and truly alone. Orphans, in the true sense of word.

He could feel the blow when it hit his brothers. He could feel Nick beside him, began to sob. Nick, who had come to fight with them even when Blaine had said not to; Nick, who was the kindest of Blaine's brothers. He could feel Thad's tough act fading. He could feel his grief in the way his face went white and somber. He could feel Hunters head bowed, silent tears dripping from his face.

He could feel the weight of his own grief as well. As he fought to control his tears. As he fought to control the need, the urge to hug someone and cry away the pain.

But he didn't. He ignored the pitiful looks of the Puckpeople. He ignored Burt's kind and sad gaze on him and his brothers. He ignored as Riley patted his shoulder once, with firm grip, telling him without words that they were here for them.

He saw from the corner of his eyes as Kurt half-reached for him. His beautiful face torn with sadness and worry. The same worry he'd seen in his eyes through the rear view mirror when they drove to the forest earlier. The same worry for his Uncle, and Finn…and everyone else as he'd confronted Kurt in the stairs of Hummel house.

He noticed how Kurt withdrew his hand in the last minute, his eyes unsure, as if he was scared that he should try to comfort Blaine. Blaine felt a stab of disappointment at that. He found that he wanted Kurt to touch him, hold him, and comfort him.

But he couldn't'. He wouldn't fall for anyone's pity. Not like this. Not when his brothers needed him. He took Nick's hand, steered Hunter by his arm and started walking. Thad followed on his own. They didn't look back at the others. They started walking toward the hill, toward Dalton House.

Burt couldn't even begin to grasp what a nightmare tonight's been. Yeah, sure, in the beginning he was a bit proud of the way Kurt had stood up against Karofsky. He was even a little content at having to ally with Andersons. And then he had felt a relief so great when Kurt was finally Sworn. Yes, his dark blood had given Burt a near-heart attack at first but it had turned out to be OK in the end.

Never in his wildest dreams Burt would've predicted the events of the night. He was devastated at Blaine's fate. To be so young and having to lose a father was a painful experience.

Burt, himself, had faced many painful things in his youth. His parents had been good people, in fact, Hummels were one of the founders of Hilltown. The appearance of the Vampires had caused Hilltown much trouble years back. Burt still remembered vividly when his father used to be the Mayor. The long night meetings, the deaths and disappearances. But then the town council had done the only thing to prevent further massacre. They'd made deal with Edward, leader of the Coven at that time. Then when Burt's father had grown old and weak, Paul had tried to run for the Mayor. It was the same year when Burt met Elizabeth. Things hadn't gone as planned.

Even the memory of those events brought a lump to his throat. It wasn't as if he was unfaithful to Carole. No, he loved her. And Finn had been more than what he could've asked for a son. No, no, he was a happy man. But it doesn't mean that he could just forget what happened twenty years ago. Nobody could forget that. Edward had won…and now the whole town was under his tyranny. Things like that were hard to forget.

Tonight, when the vampires—what was left of them—had suddenly retreated, Burt had noticed Kurt's absence. And his fears turned to panic when Blaine had stumbled out of a copse carrying Jones' body in his arms, Finn and Thad leaning to each other, were right after him. But no Kurt.

Burt had felt his whole being shake in that moment. He'd felt the pain of Elizabeth's death, Paul's decision to leave town, and then Paul's death in one same moment. He had been so sure that Kurt was now safe. He'd trusted the Swearing-in ritual too much.

He was a broken man as he had somehow managed to drive back home, thinking all the while how to break the dreadful news to Carole. And then a miracle had hit him out of nowhere. Burt Hummel wasn't used to miracles or good news, it happened rarely in this town.

Kurt was alive. And he owed his life to an enemy.

Why had Santana helped Kurt was still beyond him. But to tell them about what Edward was planning…? Now that was a pickle. It was puzzle he couldn't solve.

"They're all home," said Finn as he entered the den, shaking off his dripping hair.

Burt looked up from where he had been deeply staring. "And Jones?"

"I had Joe and Mr Hart secure his body in the church. The funeral ceremony is this evening. I think Mr Hart wants us all to rest a bit before we face that."

Burt nodded with a sigh. "I still can't believe he's gone. He was a good man. We've known each other since we were in school."

Finn sat by Burt and held him close. "I'm sorry, Dad. I can't begin to imagine how horrible it must've been for you. You have lost more people to Smyths than anyone…"

"No, Finn," Burt denied firmly. "All of us have lost loved ones to the Smyths. But every time the pain is unbearable. I just hope you never have to face such a pain while you're young."

Finn looked away, worry in his eyes. He knew what Burt was hinting at.

"Do you love her, son?" asked Burt softly.

"I do, very much," Finn admitted shyly. "I know, at first, I thought she was a diva too. I mean, she's a TV star here and that automatically gives her a big ego. But she's also kind, Dad. And sweet. And she makes me laugh…"

Burt found himself smiling despite all the worry and sadness. Finn looked just like he used to when he was in love.

"Maybe, if you really want to be with her," said Burt slowly, pronouncing each word clearly, "and if you are ready for commitment…we could have Rachel Sworn under our name soon?"

Finn's eyes lit up at that and he grabbed Burt in a warm hug. "Thanks Dad! I love you."

Burt held Finn for a few moments more. "I love you too, son."

Finn bid him good bye and went upstairs to sleep. Carole had already retired to bed, she was too tried after the fright and worry 'her boys' caused her tonight. Kurt was still at the Jones house, comforting Mercedes in her time of need.

Burt checked the wristwatch and was shocked that it was already 8 o' clock in the morning. He got up and checked out the window. Santana had been right. Rain was growing slower. In an hour or so, it will die out completely. And then maybe, the clouds will part and Hilltown would see the blue sky after a long while. Burt wasn't sure if to be happy or not—but at least the crops will be good this time.

He looked toward the street, to the house three houses away. The Jones' House. Kurt should be back by now.

Burt dialed up Kurt's number and he answered at the third tone.

"Hi, Burt," Kurt said in a hoarse voice. He had been crying.

"I was just wondering when you'll come back."

"I'm on my way, I think, five minutes," said Kurt. "I was just—Mercedes, she's so sad! I—I feel like I lost my father all over again. And Blaine's father is dead too…Burt," Kurt sniffed. "It's too much. I don't know how to calm her down anymore."

"Son, you are tired and you have seen death again, too soon after your own father died," Burt said reasonably. "What you need is rest and a long, long sleep. Come home. Rest. Then you'll be able to help Mercedes too."

"OK, I'm coming."

Burt stood in the window. He hadn't kept any boys for today, knowing how tired everyone was, so he had to make sure that Kurt got back home safely. He saw as Kurt left Jones House and made his way with fast pace over to his own house. Burt greeted Kurt with a hug and held him till Kurt was clamed a bit.

"Do you need coffee before bed?" asked Burt when they finally sat down.

"No, I had some tea with Mercedes," Kurt said, he looked thoughtful. "Burt…can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I've been thinking about it but I didn't realize until some time later…What did Santana mean? When she said about telling me the truth before its too late?"

Burt looked away. He had been dreading this. But try as he might, he couldn't deny Santana's advice. Kurt has to know, soon. And seeing how he almost lost Kurt twice in last 24 hours…

"She meant what she said, Kurt. There are things you need to know. But," said Burt firmly when Kurt tried to interrupt. "For now, you need to rest. I promise, after this is over, after the funeral this evening, I'll tell you everything."

Kurt nodded slowly. "OK. You are right. I can't stand any more truths just now at any rate. I need a break." Kurt kissed Burt swiftly on check before going to bed. "Goodnight, Burt."

As he disappeared up the stairs, Burt murmured, "Good night, son."


	8. Chapter 8: Heartbeat

**~ CHAPTER 8 ~**

**Heartbeat**

It had been hard. Telling the Warblers. They'd all shook the whole house with their cries when Nick and Thad had finally managed to choke out the news. Cooper had run away to lock himself in his room. Blaine had stayed a whole hour outside his door, begging him to come out.

Now he was in the main hall. His brothers all formed a tight circle around him, clutching each other, staring in the distance. They'd talked away for some time. Thought up of what to do now. Jeff and Wes has raged tearfully to avenge Andy's death by carrying out a coup, thus ridding Hilltown of the Smyths once and for all.

The Warblers had responded to that but Blaine had refuted the point. He had to explain again the importance of keeping control. He explained again about Santana's warning and the part Kurt could possibly play in their salvation. They had calmed down after that and lapsed into total, gloomy silence.

Blaine stirred now. "We need to rest. Everyone to bed. No need to keep watch. I'll lock up. I don't think that vampires are gonna try anything today. It's going to be sunny outside soon. Which means we'll sleep in peace."

The boys dragged themselves up and away. The Warblers who had rested last night went to the library for some reading distraction. The ones who had slept fitfully or the ones who went on Hunt went straight to bed.

Blaine had stayed in the living room for a long time after that. Then he suddenly sighed and said, "You can come out now."

From behind one of the sofas, Cooper peeked his head out. Seeing that Blaine was alone, Cooper made his way to his brother. He hesitated a second before throwing himself in Blaine's arm. He didn't cry, he'd done a lot of that in his room. Besides, Cooper was tougher than he looked. He was being brave for Blaine's sake. And Blaine knew that.

"What are you gonna do now, Blainey?" asked Cooper finally. "What are WE gonna do?"

"What we always do, Coop. We'll survive this. Somehow. I don't know what we can possibly do besides that. We'll just have to be brave."

They tumbled in silence again. Then Cooper said with a tremble to his voice, "I miss him."

Blaine tightened his arms around his brother. "I miss him too…but…we'll carry on what he started. We'll get the store running. We'll keep the town safe."

"I'll help too."

"I know you will, Coop."

Cooper fell asleep in Blaine's arms like that. Blaine scooped him up and went upstairs to put him in bed. When he finally went to his own room, Blaine broke down completely. His legs gave out form under him and his whole body shook with silent sobs.

He had no idea how he was going to take care of the Warblers now. He had no idea if he could keep the town safe! He had no idea how to go on now that he had no father figure to look up to. How could he survive? How was it even possible…?

As he lay on the floor, crying silently, he realized what a selfish bastard he was! To think he was the only one who'd lost a parent? What about all the other people who lose a family member to vampires everyday? What about Kurt…? He'd lost his father a month ago and he was braver than Blaine had ever guessed him to be!

Before he even realized what he was doing, Blaine doused his head under water, rubbing away the muck and not bothering with the gel. When he felt lighter and cleaner he started to change into cleaner clothes. He wore a light tank top and threw on a navy blue button-down shirt. He pulled on a pair of light blue trousers.

Then arming himself with a ankle knife only, he toured the whole house. He locked up as he'd promised his boys, then he snuck out of the house and locked the door behind him. The last faint drops of rain were falling. From his high perceptive from the hill, Blaine saw the far way parting of clouds in the sky, and blue strip of pure heaven.

He jogged down the hill, hailing a few people, who were unsuspecting of night's event still and going about their day with vigor, as he passed by them. He jogged toward the suburbs and found himself outside Hummels street.

He hesitated a while outside the Hummel house. Was it even rational to come here? What was he even thinking? Why would Kurt even want to help him figure out what to do when you lose a father?

But too late. His body was moving before he could even command it. He checked his watch and it said 8:30. He was certain the Kurt must be sleeping by now. Or what if he was still with Mercedes? He'd seen him go there when he reached Dalton House with his boys.

Only one way to find out. He started climbing the tree near Kurt's window and then jumped on the eaves as came level with it. He grabbed on for dear life and pried the window open. Then he slipped inside soundlessly.

Burt was right. Sleep will help me much more than anything. I think back on the last time I had slept…after my drinking stunt at the Rain Celebrations. That hadn't been peaceful. Nightmares had plagued me of Karofsky attacking me again and again. In fact, now they will be worse. Because now I knew who the monsters were.

I take a shower first. I smell like mud and blood and dirty rags. And my poor skin is itching in various places. Then I pull on a soft t-shirt that's too short on me now, but who cares, I'm going to sleep anyways. And a pair of pajama bottoms.

I just apply a single lotion over my visible skin, too tired to go through the whole process and crawl inside my bed. A groan escapes me when I lie flat finally. My body is aching in several places. My bruised jaw, head and knee where I had fallen after Mr Jones pushed me are throbbing. Great. How am I supposed to sleep with so much pain? And possible nightmares.

I roll on to my stomach and burry my head under the pillow, trying to block out thoughts. But they don't go away. I think of Mercedes. Poor, poor girl. She was so heartbroken. And I think of Blaine. Of the way he'd looked so empty and dead when he had left us this morning. I wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, to tell him that this, too, shall end. But in front of everyone, that wouldn't have been wise.

Then I hear the scraping sounds. I jump up into sitting position in my bed and look around. I hear my window open. And I see a shadow trying to climb in.

It takes everything in me to not go into overdrive and start screaming like a girl. And then the shadow is inside my room. And even before he turns, I know who it is.

Blaine gasps slightly when he sees that I'm awake and staring, with my mouth hanging open, at him. He looks flustered and agitated. Suitably so, considering what he must be going through.

"Hey," he says at last.

OK. "Hey," I say also.

"I didn't…I thought you must be sleeping and…"

"And what?" I try to joke and make him at ease. "Then you would have stared at me like a creep while I slept away?"

He suddenly looks away, as if he can't bear to look at me anymore. "No I just…I thought…"

I look at him closely. His clothes are a bit damp by the sprinkle of rain. His hair is wet too, but clear of all the vestiges of hair gel. I can spot the curls beginning to appear even as his hair are starting to dry. There's a fine line of goose bumps on his arms visible through half pushed-up sleeves.

I've never seen him like this before. He looks so—pathetic, yes, that. But not just pathetic, he looks as if he doesn't know what to do anymore. Which is the worse look ever.

I get out of bed and stand in front of him. "Blaine…it's OK. You can tell me whatever it is." I take a leap of faith and boldly garb his hands in mine, half expecting him to push me away.

But he doesn't.

He instead closes the distance between us and buries his face in my neck, sobs breaking out of his chest. I tighten my arms around him, finally understanding what he was trying to say. He needs someone to hold him. Someone who understood what he was going through.

He needs me.

A thrill goes down my spine at the thought. But I push away my flimsy corporal thought. I simply hold him. When I can't stand with him leaning all over me, I stumble backward until we both flop down on my bed. I gasp as our bodies come flush together.

I wait breathlessly for him to feel disgusted and shy away. But he surprises me again. He shakes out of his boots and yanks me with him, up the bed till we are lying side by side. I don't even have time to gasp or squeak in surprise. Seriously, his Warbler speed and tactics were kinda scary. And thrilling.

I shiver at the thought of us both in bed. My bed! But also due to the wetness that clutched Blaine's shirt, soaking into me.

He notices me shiver, and then sits up a bit and starts opening his buttons. I try to look away because—Holy God!—he's taking his shirt off. In my bed! But I can't. He throws the shirt blindly behind him and lies down again. He's wearing a tank top beneath. The goose bumps travel all along his arms and even the spare bit of hair on his chest are raised. He must be cold.

I yank my gaze away form his body and meet his look.

He is looking at me with his wet eyes, a silent plea in his gaze. This is the first time I'm seeing him up close. His jaw is sprinkled with the one day old stubble. The curve of his lips and mouth is so, so delicious that I uncannily lick my lips. Then I realize I'd been staring at his lips and look up in his eyes in embarrassment, my skin flushing red. He doesn't look bothered. He is studying my face too with so much intensity in his gaze that I go red again.

"Kurt…" he whispers and his breath ghosts over my face.

"Y-yes?"

"May I…may I hug you again?"

I can't speak. Hugging him while standing up was sorta appropriate. But while we were in bed like this…?

I just nod.

Once again he surges forward and closes the distance between us. His whole body curls up against mine, his face presses into my neck again, and he inhales deeply and I feel his shoulder relax at the contact. He shivers slightly as our bare arms rub against each other, mine warm, his cold. But the opposing sensation isn't the only thing I feel. This is the first time I was bodily touching Blaine. And it is much, much more awesome than I'd ever imagined.

Hesitatingly, I put my arms around him again; half scared that he'd yell at me. But he doesn't. Of course, he doesn't!

To me this meant something else. A boy (on whom I have a huge crush) was hugging me. The gay-me. This meant to me a whole lot more than words could tell.

To him, it was just a hug. From a friend. Who was also orphan. That's that. To him it was nothing more.

The thought saddens me, and I close my eyes. I resign myself to enjoy this closeness while it lasted. Because that's as good as it is going to get for me. No way is it ever gonna happen, that Blaine Anderson would feel anything for me. No way will he ever blush at a slight touch from me. He'll never dream about me. He'll never crave my touch. In short, he'll never feel all the things I felt for him.

He'll never love me as much as I…

My eyes fly wide open. Did I just think that? That I—that I LOVE him? No. No, that's insane! I knew so little about him. And he can't be gay anyway. Falling for him was the worst thing I could've done, including all my poor crushes back in middle school!

But I feel tears forming up in my eyes all the same. There's no denying it anymore.

As I feel him here, with me, so close. His warmth enveloping me like a blanket. His face against my neck, his warm breaths against my skin. His strong arms around me. His legs almost tangled with mine. His strong, steady heartbeat against my chest. As real as he is to me right now, as real as the sky is, I knew.

I was in love with Blaine Anderson.

And he was never gonna be in love with me.

Blaine woke up quiet well rested much to his astonishment. In the deep recesses of his mind he remembered the events of last night vividly. So it was a shocker for him to wake up so warm, calm and rested. He'd been sure he wouldn't be able to feel peaceful for years to come, at least.

But here he was…calm as he ever could be.

Then he realized that he wasn't in his own room. That there was a warm body pressed against his own. And with a jolt, the memories of this morning, when he'd walked/jogged here to Kurt's house, into Kurt's room, came rushing back in his mind.

With a strange feeling of dread—and intensity—he turned his head slightly and found himself face to face, inches apart, from Kurt. He didn't know what he was supposed to expect. Or do. But it most certainly wasn't what he was feeling right now.

Kurt looked so pure and peaceful sleeping this way. His red lips parted slightly, warm breath escaping his mouth and ghosting over Blaine. Kurt's eyelashes made brown, feather-brushed crescents over his pale cheeks. His hair rumpled up so adorably that Blaine unexpectedly smiled.

Blaine moved even closer to the sleeping boy. Till their noses rubbed in gentle Eskimo kisses. He inhaled and smiled again. He loved the smell of Kurt. The faint citrus of Kurt's soap, the sweet scent of his moisturizer, and underneath it all, the musky, warm scent of Kurt himself.

Blaine placed his hand, as discreetly as possible, on Kurt's chest. He realized he loved the sound of Kurt's heartbeat too. In fact, he'd be surprised if that wasn't the reason why he fell asleep so peacefully. Because Kurt's heartbeat lulled him to sleep.

The light blue bruise on Kurt's jaw and a slight whip of a scar on his check was the only flaws Blaine saw. And he had to control the sudden anger these scars ignited within him. With a measured hand, he grasped Kurt's left upper leg and watched in suppressed worry as Kurt whimpered in his sleep. Blaine had noticed when he entered the room, how awkwardly Kurt was bending his leg—and how clumsily he had stood up when he talked to Blaine. He also knew that was why Kurt had tumbled down on the bed, because his leg had been hurt. Now Blaine knew it was more than just hurt. He knew there might be another purple scar on Kurt's leg. The thought angered him more.

Kurt stirred slightly in that moment, and encircled his arms around Blaine, pulling him closer in half-hug, like hugging a teddy bear. Blaine smiled again. He had no objections. In fact, he'd never felt more at home, or more alive.

Without any conscious thought or warning, Blaine's mind started up the usual ritual whenever he thought about Kurt. That melody, the one that teased him in his most precious dreams…dreams of a pale beautiful boy, dreams of green-blue eyes…that melody started up again. But this time, it was stronger than ever before.

If Blaine had denied to himself the inspiration before, he couldn't do it any longer. It was Kurt. He was the reason. He was the melody in Blaine's heart. And now, while he was so close, Blaine could hear the melody clearly as if someone was writing it down for him.

He softly began to murmur, and hum. Careful not to wake up Kurt. But all the same, the pale boy smiled faintly in his sleep, as if he could hear the melody in his dreams too.

Slowly, the melody began to from words—words that Blaine never dreamed to utter to anyone in his life. But here it was. The moment of clarity. There was no more confusion now. He knew finally.

Blaine had never dreamed of having a relationship or a family. Ever. With what his job entitled, even considering such a thing was a folly. At most, he'd thought, if he ever got married it would be to extend his family roots, or to make sure that Warblers thrived for years to come. But never had he imagined such a thing as 'being in love.'

And sexuality hadn't been a problem for him either. He was, after all, a Warbler. His whole life had been devoted to slaying the Vampires who terrorized the townspeople. He never had a chance to date any girl. To explore the possibility of what his sexual preference was. Although, he had been attracted to many people over the course of his life. PEOPLE. Not just girls. He remembered being attracted to Puck back when he was still a junior in McKinley. But that had lasted for a day. He remembered being attracted to Jesse St James, even Sebastian before he'd realized what he actually was—that had been years ago, he wasn't even eight at that time. But he also had been attracted to Quinn Fabray back when she was still human and a Church going girl. Santana Lopez had haunted many of his guilty dreams.

But all that had passed. Like a fad. It had all been inessential.

He wasn't so sure now. What he felt for this boy before him, it was beyond anything he'd felt for any of the people he had been attracted to. He'd ignored the pull, the magnetic force with which he was attracted toward Kurt the first time they met. He'd thought it would fade with time. But it hadn't.

Over the passage of time, it had become stronger. So, so strong that he could tell, without looking where Kurt was in the room. When he entered a place or when he was anywhere near him. At first Blaine had blamed it on his Warbler training. But then he'd started noticing how Kurt's face lit up when he was truly happy, or how it remained wary when he was faking happiness. How Kurt's eyes expressed his emotions better than his words. How Kurt got passionate and determined to such an extreme level all of a sudden that he took Blaine's breath away every time. That can't be just training, can it? And not to mention, he knew the way Kurt smelled, the way his body felt pressed against him, the way his lips were so, so soft like petals…

No, these weren't normal feelings to have.

As the melody in his mind became complete, became a song, Blaine realized something he'd been trying to disregard for days.

He was in love with Kurt Hummel.

Jeff didn't go to sleep. Not when Nick left him like this. Not when he finally knew what Nick was going through.

"He loves me," Jeff whispered in awe to the silent night.

He had said this to himself over and over again since Nick left. He'd waited for the shock, or disgust, to settle in. But none of it had happened.

Instead, every time he said these words, a tug went up in his heart. Like someone was tying it into knots. The painful feeling wasn't devoid of thrill and a wave of pleasure behind it. He felt dizzy. Giddy. Each time he uttered those words the pleasure/pain was more intense.

What could it mean? Was Jeff in love with Nick too?

"He loves me."

Jeff gasp at the sensation these words caused in his entire body. He threw himself in bed and stared at the ceiling. Lost in the majestic world of feelings and thoughts. When he closed his eyes, he saw Nick's smiling face, Nick's bashful laughter, the blush that sometime adorned Nick's face whenever Jeff teased him.

But then the night had come to an end. And the real life had interrupted.

Andy was gone. Forever. And Nick wouldn't even look at Jeff anymore. He pretended as if Jeff was all but invisible.

Jeff's heart had made a leap of joy when he finally saw them coming back today. But then he'd noticed how sad they looked. Then they had told them the horrifying news. And then he'd seen the way Nick ignored him.

For the first time he understood the phrase 'heart ache' because his heart felt as if it was shattering in his chest.

When all had been said and done, Jeff had followed Nick to their mutual bedroom. Nick still wouldn't look at him.

They just laid in bed.

What was going on? Jeff thought. Why am I feeling so wretched? What's wrong with me?

And then, with surprise, he understood something. Experimentally, he mouthed these words to himself. "I'm in love with him."

The same feeling of pain and ecstasy rippled through his body. A sob broke though him as he realized what that meant. It meant that Nick never would be alone again. It meant that he could now, finally, make Nick the happiest person in the world. It meant that he was in love.

He looked over at Nick's bed where he lay silently. He knew that Nick wasn't really sleeping. Who could when they were so miserable?

So Jeff silently made his way to Nick's bed. And then forcefully turned Nick over till he was facing him.

"Jeff…what are you doing?" Nick chided hoarsely.

"What I should've done a long time ago."

And Jeff leaned in and kissed Nick. Nick's whole body froze. His breaths stopped.

Jeff pulled back a little, looking in Nick's shocked and wondrous eyes. Then with careful slowness, he went in for another kiss.

This time, Nick inhaled sharply and kissed him back. Their mouth clashing with each other in a soft rhythm. Until they were no longer holding back. The heat built and after a while when they broke apart for air, they found themselves in a tangle on Nick's bed.

"Whoops," Jeff muttered.

A giggle escaped Nick at that. His eyes shone so brightly, half with happiness, half with tears. His face was flushed and Jeff had never seen him look so beautiful.

"I love you too, Nicky," Jeff whispered. "I have been for a while but—I was too stupid to realize what I was actually feeling."

Nick's eyes brimmed over again. "As I said before once—you're an asshole."

They kissed again. And again. And they ended up sleeping together in a tangled mess, both with smiles on the faces.

Quinn Fabray knew what she was doing was going to get her killed. Really and actually killed.

But she no longer cared. Her whole life she'd done as her father wanted. When Russell Fabray was turned into Vampire by Edward, her family had no choice but to automatically become Vampires as well. Because it was the only way they could co-exist. Because it was her father's decision.

She missed being human. She missed the warmth of skin. She missed the sunlight. Sometimes she missed it so much that she'd find herself near a door, or window, about to step outside in daytime, before stopping short. She missed having friends, she missed going to Church on Sundays.

But then Edward had solved all the problems by winning the elections. He'd made it so that Hilltown always remained under the cover of dense cloud. He had done it by the help of some witch in San Francisco. No matter how humid it grew inside the town, or how much the humans suffered, and how much they longed to see the sky—as long as the clouds remained, Vampires were allowed to be free.

She had enjoyed that freedom fully, at first. She had stayed outdoors three whole days. She had looked at everything in awe, how beautiful it appeared in daylight, how clearer due to her new Vampire vision. It had been like a dream.

But she still didn't have any friends. Her skin was still cold and she couldn't be near humans for long. Not without the need to tear them apart and gush in their warm blood.

Later when she'd been teamed up with Santana and Brittany, her life had become better. She had friends now. But then Edward had made them the Trinity. The punishers.

If she could sleep like she used to, she'd have nightmares. Even so, she remembered every "punishment" she'd ever carried out in the name of Edward's law and "justice". She remembered the harmless humans, pleading, explaining how desperate they were to break the law.

But Andy's death had been different. It had shaken her to the core. It had made her reprioritize her life. It had made her see reason. Edward's law wasn't "the law". It was tyranny under the stamp of official approval.

And she'd do anything she can to change it.

So that's how she ended up outside the infirmary in Smyth Mansion. She waited till the nurse was gone for her coffee break, and she snuck inside.

Jack Anderson was in a cot in the very corner of the small ward. She made her way toward him softly. He was almost changed. He was going to wake up soon. But he was not, as everyone else was, going to be one of Edward's servant. This time, Quinn was going to defy Edward all out. Because it was needed to be done.

The nurse came back inside and gasped as she found Quinn in her face.

"Oh, Miss Quinn!" she squeaked with a laugh. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry Dorothea, I was just visiting Anderson. He's mine."

"Oh, so you sired him!" Dorothea said with interest. "I think it was wise. He's a good man."

Quinn saw the hidden pain in Dorothea's eyes. The nurse was elderly, retired form Hilltown Memorial Hospital several years ago. Edward had forced her to work in the infirmary by having her son Changed and established in his personal guard. Poor woman had no option but to work for him now. She would be just as sad as everyone else at Anderson's death—Warbler reputation or no. Anderson had been a valuable citizen. A nice man on the hill who provided things.

"I can help him," Quinn said, trusting the nurse with a great risk to herself. "I can help everyone, if you'd let me."

Dorothea looked at her sharply. "How do you mean, Miss Fabray?"

Quinn leaned closer and whispered to Dorothea her plan. The old woman gasped and then smiled trough her tears.

"Good Lord, Miss Quinn! You'd do that? For us?"

"I have to. I can't let it go on any longer!"

"Then you must. Now." The old woman bustled toward the door. "I'll keep watch. Go on. Do it!"

Quinn smiled at her thankfully and went back to Anderson. He was stirring.

"Open your eyes, Andy," Quinn commanded softly.

His eyes, black eyes, snapped open. He focused on her face with a blank expression.

Quinn's eyes went black as well, as she stared into his eyes. "Say after me, Andy. You are my Master. I'm your servant."

With clear voice, Andy repeated, staring deeply into Quinn's eyes. "You are my Master. I'm you servant."

"I'll learn restraint and not kill needlessly. I'll do everything you tell me to. I'll pretend in front of Edward that he's my Master. But I'll serve you, and the people of Hilltown with all the cunning and power that I have."

Andy repeated it all.

Then Quinn looked away. Andy gasped as his eyes turned their former hazel color. He blinked several times and then looked at Quinn, puzzled.

"Am I dead?"

Quinn chuckled. "Sort of. Do you remember what we told you in the forest?"

It took him a moment to remember. His eyes went wide. "You gave me a choice. To live as one of you so that I can help…Blaine. Oh, my boy! What would he do to me when he find out I've become a monster!"

"Calm down, Andy! You are not a monster. I'll make sure that you never become one." Quinn looked back at where Dorothea was still standing guard. "Now we don't have much time. You remember what I said to you when you woke up?"

Andy frowned. "I'm gonna pretend in front of Edward."

"Yes. He'll be here shortly. Go back to sleep. And when he comes to you—do as I told you."

She turned to go but Andy called, "Quinn…"

"Yes?"

"My throat hurts. And I feel hungry."

She smiled. "You're craving blood. Don't worry as long as you keep to the supplies you won't kill anyone. I'll have Dorothea get some for you after Edward's gone."

Andy made a disgusted face. But he seemed assured too.

When she told Dorothea about the blood, the old woman surprised her with a hug.

"I knew you were kind, Quinn. I knew that the girl that I remembered from Sunday Church would be deep down in there somewhere. I'm proud of you."

Quinn eyes stung with tears. "Thanks, Dorothea. It means so much to me."

"Oh, and Quinn…can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is it true, about that new kid? Is he really gonna be our savior?"

Quinn pursed her mouth in thought. "He's certainly different. But I can't be sure. Although, if Edward is so scared of him, it must mean something. Don't give up just yet."

Santana took off toward the forest after the confrontation with the humans. She needed to feed. And she could only feed from the humans who were not Sworn. And those were the Deserters. And they dwelled in the forest.

She was lost deep in thought. Thinking. About what Edward had said about the new kid. About what she's seen of Kurt so far. About her "talk" with him today.

She wondered if it had been a wise thing to do—telling them about Edward's plans. But then she remembered how Kurt had defended her when that mob of humans could've easily killed her. He'd defended her, and listened to her even though she was a killer.

And that's how she knew she'd made the right choice. She was going to give Sebastian an answer finally.

Speaking of, she might do it right now. As she could feel someone following her. She was certain it could only be him.

So she stopped in the middle of a trail, and turned around, waiting. He appeared cautiously at first, but then noticed that she was waiting. So he walked over with his proud gait, a smirk lighting up his face.

"Santana Lopez," he drawled. "Come to hunt after defying her Masters. How fickle."

"So you saw me?"

"With Hummel? Yes. And I saw that lovey-dovey deceleration you made for them. How do you know I won't tell Dad you have betrayed him so that he can change his plans?"

She smiled serenely. "Because I would tell him where you—and a large part of his guard—were last night. He was pissed, you see. He was furious that you weren't answering your phone. Just imagine, Seb? What would he be more furious at…My betrayal, or the betrayal of half of his guard and his own son?"

A growl ripped form Sebastian's throat. "You wouldn't dare."

"Which is why I want to give you a formal answer, if it wasn't clear by my betrayal?" She said with her signature smile. "I won't help you get Kurt. In fact, I'll see him trained and blossomed against Edward's pathetic rule. I'll make sure that Hilltown's government is ruined so that I and Brittany can leave in peace. So that everyone can be in peace."

"That's impossible to achieve and you know it!" he snapped. "Kurt alone can't help you in that."

"He can, I'm sure of it. And so I have a proposal for you."

Sebastian waited with a furious glare.

"Join me. Join me in bring down your father's rule and we both go free at the end of it." She held out her hand.

Sebastian glared at her, and her hand, for a long while. Then he smirked.

"I'm going to have to think about it. Then I'll give you my answer."

"Be sure it's the right one."

Sebastian came closer and looped his arm around hers, like a chaperon. "Let's hunt, shall we?"

She smiled. "We shall."

They found the man hiding under a roughly dug out cellar house. The only reason they located him so easily was that the recent rains have made his home watery and he was outside, busy drying his home.

He didn't even yell as Santana overpowered him with her gaze and mind, and started drinking his blood via small cut on his neck. When her hunger pains subsided a bit, she pulled away and slapped the man gently until he was conscious again.

"Now run along. Go back to your house cleaning," she murmured to him.

He glared at her blankly, before cursing her in harsh language. Then he got up and got busy in his work. Santana left him like that.

But then his scream sounded and she turned around in alarm. The man was in Sebastian's clutch as he drank nosily. Sebastian didn't even bother to overpower the man's mind, to make less the pain. He just drank, and drank.

Santana lunged at him and freed the man for Sebastian's cold grip. But it was too late. Life was ebbing away even as the man fell on the ground. She heard his heartbeat stutter to a stop.

She bit back an anguished yell and turned to Sebastian with rage in her heart.

"What kind of lowly monster are you?! You could've at least used mind control! He could've died in peace!" she yelled.

Sebastian smirked. "He was going to die anyway. Who cares. No one's going to miss him!"

I'm gonna miss him, she wanted to say. He always cursed me when I used to drink form him. He always went back to his work without fighting. He always kept the scar on his neck unhealed because he knew I would need to drink again. He was just that human, even when he knew he was letting a monster drink from him.

But she didn't say that. She looked away, wiping the tears from her eyes. She hadn't even known what was the man's name in all those times she drank form him. What a shame. What a waste.

"You are just as evil as your father. You have no heart."

And then she ran away from him. The rain was stopping. The sun will be out. She needed to be with Brittany.

I wake up suddenly, gasping as the images from my nightmares vanish and my own room comes into focus. It is just a dream, I tell myself. Sugar isn't mauling you right now!

And then I remember everything. I remember Mr Jones. And I bite back a whimper.

A finger brush the tear away from my face with a soft touch. I bite back another scream as I turn.

Warm, honey eyes envelope my whole vision. Blaine.

I remember how he came to be with me. And I blush. Great. Leave it to my fate that I break down due to a bad dream in front of Blaine. Awesome.

"Are you OK?" he asks me in a soft early-morning voice.

"I think so," I say. Then I mentally shake myself. He's the one who lost his father. I should be asking him that. "Are you OK? I mean—how are you feeling now?"

He gives me a sad smile. And God, from this close it's the most magnificent thing ever.

"I've been better. But I'll be fine." He looks away with a little color in his check. "I'm sorry about my breakdown this morning. I just didn't know who else to talk to…You were the only person I thought of and…"

I was the only person he thought of? That's…wow.

"It's OK. I understand. And it's no big deal. I won't tell anyone about your breakdown, I promise." Stop stammering Kurt, right now. Do you even hear yourself?

And we are still in my bed. Should I take away my arms? Should I move so that he can release me? I mean, we are fairly cuddling. Is he even noticing it? Can he even hear how fast my heart's beating? Or is it his heartbeat? There was no way to tell.

"What time is it?" I ask instead. Ten points to me for my steady voice.

He looks back at me and says, "I think its after 3 o' clock. After noon."

My eyes go wide. "Damn how long we slept?"

"Long enough."

Now would be the proper time to move away and get up. In fact, he should totally get out of my bed and put on his shirt. Because he's still in his tank top and—why the heck am I wearing my smallest t-shirt? I knew it wasn't a good idea, but see, laziness has gotten me into his awkward situation.

Awkward because our skins, or arms, are still touching and brushing as we breathe. Or in my case, pant.

"I think…I should get up," I say finally, because seriously, I don't want to. Who knows when I'll be able to feel Blaine this close to me again? "We have a funeral today so…"

He doesn't move away as I thought he would. His arms tighten just a teensy bit around me.

"I don't want to," he whispers as if confessing to an offense.

And now I actually look at him.

His beautiful eyes are wide, pupil blown wide. His lips are slightly parted. There's look of such an utter vulnerability on his face, in his yes that I fear for him. With a lot of patience, I touch his face with my fingers like he had. I see as he close his eyes at the touch, sighing at the contact.

"Blaine…" I say till he is looking at me again. "I know this is confusing to you. I know it is gonna be hard. It was for me as well. But, I got a family now. I have an Uncle who loves me even though I'm—" gay "—different. I have Finn. And Mercedes. And friends. And now," I show him the bandage on my arm, "now I'm Sworn."

He is listening to me with so much trust in his gaze that it takes everything in me not to kiss him right now.

"My point is…" minus five points because my voice breaks now, "I found a home even when I was sure I never would be able to go on without Dad. You are not alone, Blaine. You have Puckpeople. You have your Warbler brothers. You will have a family someday, a wife, kids," my voice cracks horribly at that one. "You have…me…"

Not that he cares. I mean, I'm nothing special, right?

"I do?" he says with a stunned expression.

"Yes. All of us are with you Blaine. You'll never be alone. I promise." I take his face in my hands now, because it feels OK to do that. "I will never ever let you be alone. I promise."

He blinks and tears fall from his eyes. "Promise?" he chokes out.

"Pinky promise." I hold out my pinky and he chokes again, with laugher.

I wipe his tears and smile again.

"Can I hug you again?" he asks me suddenly.

I bite my lips as I blush. "Of course, you can. You're my friend Blaine. You can, form now on, hug me whenever you like."

And he does. He hugs me tightly, burying his face in my shoulder again. I burry my nose in his curls, inhaling his scent. Pine, musk, earth, and warmth. We stay like this a while.

Then I feel a tensed sort of feeling in my stomach. At first I ignore them as nerves. But then the feeling grow so, so stronger that I feel like I'm on fire. Blaine's breathing becomes raggedy too. Like he's suffocating.

And then I understand with a shock what it was. And I try to inelegantly push Blaine away from me—before I embarrass myself epically.

His eyes are still wide and blown out, but as he hugs his arms close to his own body, scooting away from me a bit, I see another intense emotion on his face. Another inexplicable flick of his eyes.

So, if I ever had doubts before…I didn't have any now. I was definitely, absolutely, very much gay. And close to a ridiculous turn-on just because Blaine held me close. Shame.

"K-Kurt…?" he says but I don't look at him. How can I? What if he knows? What if he's disgusted by me?

"K-Kurt?" I feel his breath on my face.

I open my eyes and he's really close. Again I find myself slipping in the warm, welcoming olive-splashed-honey of his eyes. And then our noses brush. I'm not the only one panting now.

"Kurt…" this time his voice is urgent. Growly. Sexy. "Kiss me."

Just as I gasp at this demand, he surges forward and attacks my lips. I freeze for just a moment. And then its like the dam inside of me just bursts forth.

I yank him close, smashing our lips together. My hand knots in his curls, angling his head so I can better taste him. My other hand clutches his shoulder, pulling him closer still.

Then I feel his tongue on my lips and I open my mouth. With a growl—that emanates from deep within Blaine's chest and I feel its vibrations in my own body—Blaine tangles our tongues together.

With his left hand, he grasp the back of my neck, pulling me off the pillow and tilting my head sideways, plunging even deeper into my mouth. With his other hand, he displays another exciting Warbler skill. He rolls us over so that he's straddling me and I wrap me legs around his waist, without any ignominy now.

That's when my mind starts to go blank. No! I scream in my head. No, not now! I didn't want to faint this time. This was happening. And I wanted all of it! Fainting was a no-go.

He feels the need to breath too, I think, for he groans again. And with a loud smacking sound—as if for intends and all purposes our lips were glued together—he breaks apart from me. I gulp in a huge breath of air.

When I open my eyes I want to scream. In joy.

He's so beautiful. There's a trickle of sweat on his brow. His eyes are all dark and wide in lust. His lips, still wet from my clumsy kissing, are swollen and red. There are bright spots of red on his cheeks and he's panting as if he'd run a mile.

And then pain finally sets in. My jaw. Ouch. I surreptitiously try to pinch myself, just in case. Ouch, again.

He sees my pained expression and frowns. "That's not good," he says, and ohmygod, his voice so raw like he's thirsty.

I want to kiss him again. And again. And never stop. But wait—holy shit—we just KISSED!

The realness finally sets in. Wake up, hon, you are NOT dreaming, I tell myself with a shock. This really happened. Because a) the pain in my jaw, and b) you just pinched yourself.

"Blaine…?" I breath.

What the fuck. I want too say. What just happened. Why would you do that? Are you gay? Of course, he isn't idiot. Stop hoping!

"Kurt," he says, and he sounds very steady. Then he touches my jaw with the softest touch possible. It still sends fire into my veins and I shiver. Oh, and he's still on top of me. "Does this hurt much?"

"Um…not sure," I squeak. "Maybe. I don't know. Why?"

"Because-so-help-me-Kurt-I-want-to-kiss-you-again- but-I-don't-want-to-hurt-you."

We-ell. When he puts it that way. I think I manage my signature sarcastic smile, but it must've come out as a grimace. "It doesn't hurt that mmmnuph!"

He already was in my mouth. And this time, it was even more intense than the first kiss. It was as if its his last chance. His tongue travels all over my mouth, stroking, caressing every inch, taking in every single thing.

I do the same. Not knowing if it WAS dream or reality. I wanted all of him, as much I could have. We explored away. His free hand was everywhere and suddenly I don't mind my small t-shirt. It meant it was tight. And his hand and touches had better effect. I un-looped an arm from around him and took advantage of this tank-top wearing Adonis. My hands travels all over his bare arms, he shudders underneath my touch.

Then all at once, his shoulder tense and with another smacking sound he pulls away from me, my arms fall floppily on my sides. Now, he has that look. The one I'd been dreading. Horror.

But when he gets off of me and across the bed to the extreme other side of the room, I realize what he is doing exactly. There are heavy footfalls outside in hallway. Someone is coming. The relief in my mind is so mighty that I huff out my short breath and fell back on the pillow.

Finn throws open the door in his usual clumsy way.

"OH MY GOD, KURT! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS IT'S…Ohhh…" he trails off when he sees I'm not alone.

I prop myself on my elbows, very aware of my boner and flushed, sweaty state I am in. But I think of unpleasant things hurriedly. All at once, Sugar's beastly face flashes across my eyes—and I'm good to go. At least these Vampires were good for something.

"What is it, Finn?" I demand in a bored (and breathy) voice, like I'm used to having visitors—correction, BOY visitors—in my room all the time.

His gaze is still in a loop, on me, on Blaine, then repeat. He blinks a while then says, "The news, they've found…you better come down, Kurt." He makes moves to go away but looks back at Blaine. "You as well, Blaine. You of all people need to see this."

Blaine who was studiously standing by the window, red faced but ignoring everyone with morose silence, looks at Finn in interest. Then follows Finn wordlessly.

I take a few seconds more, trying to catch my breath, and then jump out of the bed. I take a hurried look at myself in the mirror, and it's hopeless. I have that look. The one that says "very hormonal, recently kissed and just about to faint."

Its in the den that I find Blaine, Finn, Burt and Carole together. They all seem to have frozen or something. They wear same expressions of nausea mixed with pain and sadness. They have their eyes glued to the TV screen where a charming but industrious voice is sharply saying something.

I join in the silent gathering and focus on the TV. There's a man wearing an expensive, stridently cut suite and tie. He looks sort of young, but has an Elvis like aura to his personality. He looks kind of familiar too…but I can't pinpoint exactly how I know him.

Then my eyes find the headlines running along the screen, huge white letters against blood red of channel's standard motif.

PEACE TREATY—MAYOR'S NEW TRADE REGIME FOR TOWNSPEOPLE.

Now I focus on what the man, the Mayor?—damn he's Edward Smyth—is actually saying.

"…very generously and respectably accepted this offer. I can't begin to thank him, not only on my behalf, but on behalf of the whole town for which he had provided his services for so long—and shall provide them for many, many years to come." The Mayor gives a flirty smile to the camera. "So in front of the entire town, for the first time in Hilltown's history, I propose a Peace Treaty and an Alliance with yours only, Jack Anderson."

The Mayor slips aside from the podium with a flourish and gestures with his elegant hand toward the next man who takes his place to speak.

"No!" Carole gasps. "This is impossible…"

I look around at my family quickly. Finn looks as if he wants to throw up, he keeps staring at the screen stupidly. Burt looks a mask of anger and horror, but the dominant emotion is sadness. Then Burt meets my eyes, the blue softening rapidly and his gaze fell away from mine, to Blaine.

Blaine looks as if he's made of stone. The face that was just about smashed into mine a few moments ago, is now a facade of stone. There is nothing in his expression. At all. And for the first time, I feel scared of him.

Then I look back at Jack Anderson. I remember him form that first night. The tall, nicely built man with dark hair, and hazel eyes. Jack Andersons' eyes aren't quiet wide or expressive as his son's but I can tell the similarities with painful acuteness. But there's something more about the man on TV than I remembered of him since the last time I saw him. He's more…confident. More un-humbled. More….well, more.

Then it dawns on me, and his words finally start making sense.

"…was a tough decision to make. To having to choose this way of life. But, I feel that for the betterment of everyone, I've chosen wisely. With the Mayor's help, I'll be able to run my store again. I'll be able to fulfill all the shortages we've been seeing these past few months. I'll be able to help the people with their fears of the band of orphans at the top of the hill." The crowd on TV murmurs in unison and shook. "Yes—I'll be able to get rid of the Warblers. They are a menace to this town. They have been known to have been secretly in league with a few banished rouge Vampires, who are reported to have been hiding in the forest, aided by the Deserters as well."

"The FUCK…?" Finn yells angrily.

"Shhhh…listen!" Burt snaps.

"Mr Anderson, are you saying that you'll go after your own son?" A reporter asks, thrusting her mike in Jack's face.

"Blaine has been…a disturbed child ever since his mother died due to some unfortunate run in with a few rogue ones," says Jack, his voice is smooth and so convincing. "He's been weird ever since that. He started gathering orphans and anyone who wasn't taken care of—or you might as well call them Deserters—into his care. He trained them to be killers. But should I ask you? Can't he kill easily, the humans as well? As you saw this morning we found fifty-three vampires dead, mauled or in ashes. He was behind it, him and a few other, unwanted people in the town who would rather cause trouble than fix things. Ask yourselves this, if he's capable of killing so many vampires, stronger than him even, would he let you humans live if things didn't go his way?"

With this ominous note, the reporters fall silent. Some of them look furious at this accusation. Some look kinda convinced.

"So, I hereby announce my alliance with the Mayor. I promise, I'll provide for everyone. Thank you."

And with that Jack and Mayor are shaking hands, posing for pictures, smiling away.

Burt turns off the TV.

We all turn to Blaine. He looks strange, like he'll vomit but not food…fire. He looks in a rage.

"Son," Burt steps close to him, "I know this seems cold but—he is under Mayor's influence. You see that. He'll never say such things about you…he's just confused that's all…"

"Yes," Blaine snaps through his teeth. "Yes, I realize that. But he's gone. He's dead. He's one of them now. Nothing left to do anymore." His tone sounds final.

"What are you going to do now, about your brothers?" Carole asks kindly but she looks pained as well.

"I'll protect them. As I always have." He turns to the door and yanks it open, the afternoon heat seeping inside the breezy den. "I should leave now. The funeral will be starting in a while."

I watch as he leaves me, without looking back. My family starts speaking in murmurs about "poor Blaine" or "Poor boys, what a pity" but I don't hear any of it. I run after Blaine.

He's almost two houses away when I call him, "BLAINE!"

He stops at my voice, and turn around. I run up to him and for the first time, I see how much it hurts him. How much he was hurting even if he believed his father was under influence. And I feel a rush of joy. He's showing his real emotions to me alone. Me.

"Blaine…I—are you going to be fine? Are you…?"

But he's already too close to me, his nose rubbing against mine as he inhales deeply. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Wh-what? I don't understand. I thought you…" liked me?

"I was confused and lonely and I needed to…" Blaine looks away, his eyes shimmering brightly in sunlight. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like this when…"

I shake my head in disbelief. He is scared that I would be pissed? That I'll MIND that he kissed me? Oh, Blaine Anderson, if you only knew!

I close what gap is left between us and our lips ghost over each other. He stiffens, the same way I had before when he was the one kissing me.

"Nothing about this is wrong, Blaine…" I whisper against his lips. "I'll never be sorry that we kissed. Ever." And I kiss him once, softly, just to prove my point.

When I back away, his eyes are a sea of emotions. Gratitude, relief, sadness, pain, and intensity. "Kurt, I…?"

"No, we don't have to talk about this now. You need to go home." I start walking away. "I'll see you at the Funeral."

"I'll see you then," he says softly, but I hear him.

I watch as he jogs toward the hill when I close the door of my house. My family is still here, and Finn's face looks exceptionally red. So I guess they must have seen Blaine and me together. But I don't even feel scared. I just meet their gazes, not even bothering to analyze what they are thinking of me. And I go upstairs to get ready for the Funeral.


End file.
